Child of the Guardian
by Nikani
Summary: AU! A sort of "What if" story. How would John handle it if he found out he had a daughter? The ups and downs of bringing a 15 yr old into the mix with our happy crime stoppers.
1. Chapter 1

This is a story that has been rambling around in my head for a while and I finally decided to write it down so maybe it will leave me in peace. VERY AU so be warned. I'm not sure of timelines with the series so there will be errors (all my own), please don't kill the author!

Disclaimer: I don't own, nor do I have any say in Person of Interest (although I wish I did) and I make absolutely no money on these flights of fancy into the world of fiction.

Part 1

"We have another number, John."

John Reese, who had just walked through the door of the library the two men worked from, lifted an eyebrow at his friend and partner, "When don't we, Harold?"

His answer was a slightly sardonic smirk as Harold Finch turned back to the computer that occupied so much of his time and began tapping rapidly on the keyboard. Within a few moments, a picture popped up on one of the many screens and both men blinked in surprise.

The tall handsome man lowered himself to sit in a chair beside the computer genius, deep blue eyes focused on the photo, "She can't be older than, what? Fourteen? Fifteen?"

"Fifteen, according to the machine. Her name is Ashlyn Ar…oh, dear lord," Finch's voice trailed off into a whisper as the girl's information and more pictures appeared on the screen. Unable to turn his head to look at the former military man he'd hire to help, the billionaire was forced to shift his entire body, "John…?"

As usual, Reese's face didn't betray any emotions other than a tightening in his jaw, but his very presence seemed to suddenly swell as shock, followed by grief and rage enveloped him. Without taking his eyes from the screen, his growled, "Pull up _her _information and do a side by side, or whatever you call it."

Swiveling back around to his keyboard, the brown haired man entered another name and brought up a second set of pictures and bio information. A couple of clicks set it next to the original and both men studied the screen in disbelief. Finally, Harold maneuvered back around to face his friend, "I'm assuming since your shock mirrors my own that you had no idea?"

Hard eyes narrowed and fixated on Finch as the normally quiet, gravelly voice raised in barely suppressed fury, "Of course I didn't know anything, do you honestly think that if I did the machine would be spitting her number out at us? If I'd known, you and I wouldn't be sitting here right now because I would never have left either of them!"

Despite knowing the other man would never actually hurt him, Harold couldn't help the automatic reaction that had him scooting his chair back several inches, "I truly figured as much, John, and I certainly did not know. When I did the background investigation before approaching you for this job, nothing came up about this."

"I didn't think that you had kept this hidden from me, Harold," Reese hooked one foot in the base of the other man's chair as he lowered his voice back into normal range with effort and tugged him back to his original position. "What I want to know is how Jessica kept the fact I had a child secret for so many years."

While Harold planted himself at the computer and furiously typed, trying to find out where and how this girl had been hidden, John took copies of the photos to the kitchen where the light was best to study them closer. The face of his former lover was engraved into his mind forever but he still compared her picture to that of their daughter. He was still in shock that he had a child and hoped that the man pounding away on the keyboard would find some things out for him.

Ashlyn Arndt, aged fifteen, was a stunning teenager whose features gave hint to the absolute beauty she would be as an adult. She was of average height for her age, around five foot six, but delicately built. She was slender almost to the point of thinness and he sincerely hoped that she wasn't one of those girls who ate like a bird because they were afraid they would look healthy. He, himself, was very fit because of all the exercise he got chasing people around and fighting goons off. The girl's face was somewhat oval in shape and dominated by piercing ice green eyes that seemed to be filled with a haunting fearfulness he desperately wanted to erase. Her hair tumbled in thick waves and curls down to her hips and was coal black, like his had been before the grey flecks began appearing at the temples.

There was only one reason he could think of that the machine would give them her number; the same reason her mother had died. The man Jessica had married, apparently while pregnant with this girl, had been an abusive beast that had eventually killed her and who came from a family of monsters. Several of them had been investigated for different things ranging from child abuse to assault with a deadly weapon.

And one of them had his daughter.

Digging deep into the past of the family Jessica had married into was no easy feat due to their wealth, but Harold had an arsenal at his disposal that he made lavish use of. He would not disappoint his friend by coming up empty in this search.

After nearly twenty minutes of hunting, he found something. Which turned out to be a good thing, since about that time John's voice came roaring through the building as he charged back into the computer area demanding to know if Finch had gotten lucky?

Facing the angry man, he nodded, "I finally did find something; sit down." When his partner collapsed into the chair beside him again, Harold opened different screens, explaining as he went, "Apparently, Ashlyn was not born in a hospital but at home with a private doctor in attendance, at her parent's insistence. Jessica married Arndt before the child was even a year old. Her step-father…" he trailed off as John growled softly, "very well…Arndt…kept her at home and she was rarely allowed to leave the house, much as Jessica was."

"How could he do that? She had to go to school, see doctors for regular health care, go outside to play, something."

"I'm sure you'll be delighted to know that not only has she had proper schooling since he brought in private tutors, but she is extremely intelligent. Ashlyn, at the age of thirteen, finished high school and has been taking college level courses in a number of subjects. According to one of her teachers, I quote, 'Ashlyn is an extraordinary child to work with. Never have I come across someone with an eidetic memory before. She only needs to see, hear, or experience something once and it stays with her forever. I often find myself hard-pressed to keep up with her, let alone try to stay ahead. However, her family life seems to be fraught with tension and anxiety, and she and her mother rarely leave the home, even to go sit outside.' So it sounds like your daughter challenges even high-priced professors."

"That sounds more like a child of yours rather than mine, Harold; I'm not exactly known for my intelligence."

Finch snorted, "You like to think you don't, or play yourself up as the brawn without a brain, but I have observed your intelligence myself and know better."

Lips quirking slightly in acknowledgement of the truth, Reese asked, "What else did you find?"

"Shortly after she finished her high school classes, Jessica…passed away…" he spotted the faint wince his friend displayed unknowingly. "Ashlyn stayed with her step-fa…Arndt…for only a couple of months after that, then was removed from his care and placed in a home for a while until they finally released her to an uncle and his wife where she has been for the last couple of months. When the state put her in one of their homes, they discovered she didn't have a Social Security number and quickly rectified that. Her aunt and uncle have apparently continued her education with the state's encouragement." Finch glowered a bit at his computer, "What I can't figure out is why the machine has pulled her number. It's not that I'm ungrateful since it led us to this discovery, but why?"

"I may have the answer to that," John replied as he handed the picture of the girl to his partner. "Look at the right side of her face; do you see how it's slightly swollen and there's a faint shadow under her eye and along the jaw line?" Harold nodded. "Classic signs of someone who's been struck and trying to hide it with make-up. And look there, just at the neckline of her shirt you can see what looks like finger-shaped bruising on her shoulder." His eyes were dark and cold, "Someone has been abusing my daughter and the machine discovered it."

The billionaire tapped key and the printer sprang to life, "Here is all the information I could get on the uncle and his wife where Ashlyn has been living. Shall I come with you, or would you perhaps like to take Detective Carter with you?"

Taking the offered paper, Reese stared steadily into his friend's eyes, "What's wrong, Harold? Don't you trust me to do this alone?"

"In a word, John? No."

He placed a hand over his heart and tried to assume a hurt expression, "Harold, you wound me."

"Wounds are exactly what I'd like to prevent, if you please. I don't think that you should try to start a relationship with your new-found daughter by killing her aunt and uncle in front of her. Perhaps if I accompany you, things won't get too far out of hand."

"Do you really think you, or Carter, could stop me if I find out one of them has been hurting her?"

Finch rose slowly to his feet as he studied the other man, "Of course not, John. I have a feeling that the only person who could stop you if that's the case is Ashlyn herself."


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

Ashlyn Arndt studied her face in the mirror and cautiously applied a bit more make-up to her jaw, silently thanking whatever deity was listening that the swelling was finally all but gone. Usually her uncle was more careful when he struck her to avoid the face since it was much harder to hide. She'd been trapped in the house with his unpredictable temper for the past several days while waiting for the damage to fade enough that she could go out again without drawing attention to the injuries. She was going crazy at home, only stepping outside long enough to run to the mailbox and back after making sure the street was clear so no one saw her. She couldn't even go into the backyard because it wasn't fenced and the neighbors might see her.

She drew a brush through her long hair and pulled it back with a scrunchie to keep it out of her face while she worked around the house. No matter how hurt she was, chores still had to be completed in a timely manner and she had been told over breakfast that she was to walk up to the small corner store this morning to pick up some items now that she was healed enough to go out. Her uncle would be in his office in the back room this morning before going in to work for a presentation just before lunch so she needed to be very quiet.

Grabbing her purse, Ashlyn double-checked to make sure she had the twenty dollars her aunt had given her as well as the short list of things. Going to the kitchen, she jotted down a note to let her uncle know where she had gone and what time she left in case he came looking for her, and then slipped out of the stifling house. The walk to the store was short and she was thankful since her back was still sore from the last punishment that had marked her face.

As she entered, a tiny bell overheard tinkled welcomingly and an older woman popped out from the storage room, "Good morning, child, I haven't seen you in a while! How are you?"

"Good morning, Mrs. Kirkland, I'm fine; how have you been?"

"A little on the slow side this week, which is all to the good since it gives me a chance to get caught up on stock." The sixty four year old woman approached the lovely teenager and gently patted her on the cheek, completely missing the slight flinch of both pain and fear at having someone so close and touching her sore face. "Could I get your help for just a moment, dear? I have some large cans that are just a little too big and heavy for my hands and their arthritis that need to be brought out and put on the shelves."

What else could she do but agree? As quickly as she could, Ashlyn gathered up the cans and brought them out to stock, only to have the elderly store owner change her mind twice on where to place them. Glancing at the clock, the girl realized she'd been gone for nearly half an hour and still needed to get her items so she could get home. She could only hope that her uncle was still working and hadn't found her note. Biting her lip, she quickly finished putting the cans on display, grabbed what was on her list, paid (while trying hard not to hurry the old woman along and appear rude), accepted Mrs. Kirkland's thanks, and nearly bolted out the door to get home.

Her uncle was sitting at the kitchen table holding her note and staring at the clock when she scurried in.

'Please not the face this time,' Ashlyn prayed silently as she set her bags on the counter and faced Martin Arndt's wrath.

"Put the groceries away. You've been gone 45 minutes according to your note," he began in a low, angry voice.

She complied with his orders as swiftly as she could, starting with the cold things so she didn't have to get near him to get to the pantry just yet, "Mrs. Kirkland asked me to help her with some things while I was there. I didn't want to be discourteous or make her suspicious so I did." Ashlyn grabbed her purse and pulled out ten dollars and some change along with the receipt to set on the table near him, "She didn't charge me full price since I helped her so I didn't spend much."

Martin almost looked pleased at this attempted peace offering until one of the bags took that exact moment to tips its contents out. Including a candy bar that hadn't been on the list; nor was it on the receipt. The man exploded out of his seat and backhanded the girl across her already injured cheek, knocking her sideways into the edge of the sink, "What the hell is that?!" He grabbed the candy and struck her on the side of the head with the fist holding it, "Thought you could get away with stealing our money and buying something for yourself, did you?"

Holding her throbbing face, Ashlyn tried to shake her head, but stopped at the wave of nausea that came with it, "I didn't buy that, uncle, I swear! I only bought what was on the list!"

"So you stole it from the store, is that what you're saying?" He raged as he slapped her again, not noticing when he split her lip and splattered himself with blood where he was standing so close to her and didn't realize he'd cut one of his knuckles on her teeth from hitting her so hard. Fisting one hand into her long ponytail, he was raising the other one for another strike when the doorbell rang. Shoving her away so violently she fell and throwing the candy bar at her huddled form, he stalked to the front door.

Ashlyn stared at the candy, realizing that Mrs. Kirkland, sweet old woman that she was, had thought she was being kind to a teenager who'd been willing to help her out in the store by giving it to her. She couldn't have known that her innocent act of generosity had just set the girl up for a horrendous beating that would keep her house-bound for at least week, if not more. Once whoever was at the door left, she would be at his mercy again.

Furious at being disturbed while disciplining his wayward niece, Martin stormed towards the door and just before opening it, took a deep breath to get himself under some control. Image was everything to himself and his wife and they were always careful to make sure the neighbors saw only the good side of things. Opening the door, he was surprised to see two men, one dressed in a brown suit and tie that matched his hair while the other wore a dark blue suit that made his eyes seem deeper and darker and no tie.

"May I help you, gentlemen?"

John already had his fake police badge out and was flashing it when his eyes homed in on the blood spray across Martin's pale blue dress shirt. He didn't want to make a scene on the front steps of the house so he held onto his charade a few moments longer, "I'm Detective Stills and this is my associate Mr. Cardinal. We'd like to ask you some questions concerning your brother, Mr. Arndt."

"I've already answered more questions about my brother than I care to and I'm in the middle of putting together a presentation for my job so I don't have time right now. If you have any questions, you can contact my law…"

Stepping closer to the door, John's voice dropped into deeper tones, "Mr. Arndt, are you aware that you have blood on your shirt? _Fresh blood_?"

Releasing his hold on the door, Martin grabbed the bottom of his shirt with both hands to pull it out so he could see it, not realizing that in the process of doing so, the hand he'd struck his niece with was now evident. The cut from her teeth was plainly visible as a small amount of blood oozed from it, and her blood was smeared, bright red, across his hand.

A blur of motion was all the warning he got before a powerful hand was suddenly locked around his throat and a gun was pressed hard into his temple as he was forced to take several steps backwards into the house. The intense blue eyes were hard as diamond chips and the voice that growled at him was terrifying, "Where is she?"

"Who?" he squeaked out.

"Ashlyn, you piece of slime. Where is she?"

"Kitchen," he managed to gargle out as the grip on his neck tightened. The man holding him captive gave his associate a pointed look and the brown man limped off in the direction of the kitchen as quickly as he could. Without another word, eyes holding the portly man captive along with the grip on his throat, John dragged the man further down the hall and into a room so he could close the door.

Entering the sun-bright kitchen, Harold didn't see the girl until he came around the counter and spotted her curled in a ball on the floor. Although it was hard for him to get down on the floor, he managed to kneel down on one leg with the other stretched awkwardly out and whisper, "Ashlyn? It's alright, we're here to help and we're going to take you away to someplace safer. Can you hear me, child?"

Scooting a bit further away from the person who'd come into the kitchen, the teen slowly raised her head to peer at him. Not seeing anything in his face or eyes that felt threatening, she gradually eased into a kneeling position as well and studied the man. He was dressed in a suit that was obviously expensive and well-tailored and the pallor to his skin marked him as someone who didn't spend a great deal of time outside. His features were sharp behind his glasses and he seemed to be very uncomfortable on the floor with her, but his eyes seemed kind if world-weary.

"Oh dear," Finch murmured when he got a good look at the young woman and her injuries. Her lower lip was split near the corner and still bleeding sluggishly leaving a trail of scarlet down her chin, one eye was blackening, and a vivid red mark stood out in her skin like a beacon. When John got a look at her, there would be hell to pay.

"Who are you?" the girl whispered. "If my uncle finds you in the house…"

"He knows we're here; my partner is informing him of the situation and that we are taking you away from here to someplace safe." He gestured in the direction of her bruised face, then let his arm fall when she flinched instinctively, "You obviously can't stay here. You'll be safe, I promise you that. No one will ever hurt you in this manner again." Closing his eyes and stifling a groan of pain, he began to slowly work on gaining his feet and was stunned when a helping hand was slipped under his arm to ease him up. Opening his eyes, he met the pale green orbs of the hurt teen and saw not only her pain and fear, but an earnest desire to help him despite it. How very like her father she was.

Once he was on his feet and stable, Ashlyn stepped quickly away from him, pressing a hand lightly to her head as it throbbed from where Martin had hit her. She wouldn't make eye contact with the man again, but she had spotted his pain and wanted to help him as much as she could. Her mother's influence on her was still strong and mom had been the type to give everything, including her life, for others. Just look at how many times she had stepped between her husband and daughter to protect her.

Just as Harold opened his mouth to thank the girl, his phone chimed softly. Pulling it out, he read the message displayed, typed a rapid response, and returned his attention to Ashlyn, "Your uncle is in his office with my partner and it has been suggested that you and I go to your room and pack up everything you want to take with you. You will not be returning here so whatever you want, we'll need to get now."

The thought of leaving here with two complete strangers worried her, though something about this man was reassuring; but the thought of _staying_ was horrifying at this point and she supposed jumping out of the fire onto the stove might be a step in a better direction. If she were lucky, she wouldn't get burned again.

Carefully skirting a wide berth around the man, Ashlyn grabbed her purse from the counter and led the way upstairs to her small room where she pulled a couple of small battered suitcases out from under the twin bed. There weren't a lot of things she wanted outside of clothing, pictures, small knickknacks and jewelry that had been her mother's, her laptop, and the flash drive for it. In all, everything fit neatly into the bags with room to spare and was completed in record time.

As she zipped them closed, the man who'd followed her upstairs pulled out his phone and sent a message to his cohort; when he received an answer, he picked up one of the bags, "Are you able to carry the other one?" She nodded and easily hefted it. "Good girl, our car is just outside in the driveway. I advise we go with all haste." Turning, he limped out of the room, down the steps, and out the door, popping the trunk from the remote as he approached so he could set the bag he carried inside. Before he could assist the teen, she had already followed his lead and then stepped back to see what was next. Harold wanted to get them all out of there while he could in order to hopefully keep Martin Arndt alive.

Limping around to the back door on the passenger's side of the car, he opened it and gestured for her to enter. Eyes strayed briefly to the house she had lived in for only a few months before she took a deep breath and carefully slid onto the seat. After making sure she was in and buckled, Finch closed her door, sent another text from his phone, and climbed in himself.

Ashlyn leaned forward to press her palms to her pounding head and closed her eyes. She still didn't know who these people were since the man in front of her had yet to introduce himself, but she figured someone had finally figured out about the abuse and reported it. No doubt this man was from Children and Family Services and she was on her way to another foster facility. On one hand, she was relieved to be away from the slaps and beatings with a belt for little or no reason, but on the other, she had been able to continue her education. She had a deep burning need to learn everything she could and was frustrated when things prevented her from fulfilling this desire. Her grades, even being home schooled, had earned her a full scholarship to any college she wanted and she'd made use of it, taking class after class on many different subjects.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

The driver's door opened and closed very quickly as the partner entered, started the car, and pulled out of the driveway before she could completely realize what was happening. Opening her eyes, Ashlyn lifted her head slightly to peer around the seat Harold was in, looked over at the new person and nearly crawled out the window. He was dressed in a dark blue suit that, like the other man, was tailored to fit his powerful frame though less expensive, his white shirt was unbuttoned at the neck for comfort and set off his rich tan nicely. He was clean-shaven from what little she could see with his black hair cut almost military short, showing the flecks of grey mainly at the temples in stark relief. The hands that gripped the steering wheel were large, strong, and competent, the knuckles showing some signs of redness and scrapes.

But it was his eyes that scared the crap out of her.

He didn't seem to be watching the road, though the car never strayed from its path, instead his deep blue gaze was fixed on her in the rearview mirror. His eyes looked hard and cold, then seemed to soften, before glinting again with suppressed wrath. Ashlyn pressed herself tightly against the door frame, fingers actually straying to touch the door handle as her brain argued it would be safer to get the heck out of the car and away from this frightening man, while her body responded that there was no way in hell it could handle a fall from a moving car in its present condition.

Turning her head fully to look back at the man watching her, Ashlyn saw the exact moment he registered the damage done to her face. His eyes widened slightly before narrowing into black laser beams with what she would have sworn looked like flames burning in them. Without warning he whipped the car into an empty sports complex, threw it in park, killed the engine, and started to get out.

This time, the brain was able to convince the body that since the car wasn't moving anymore and the scary man was coming for her, it was time to vacate the area. Quickly.

Tearing open the door with one hand while the other undid her seatbelt, Ashlyn was out of the car and bolting across the field they had parked in front of, never looking back to see if she was being chased. Her head was pounding so hard she couldn't hear anyway and checking behind her would only slow her down, so she focused on running for all she was worth.

She made it about twenty feet before he was on her. Her five foot six inch frame was nothing compared to someone who was six foot two and outweighed her by nearly eighty pounds of solid muscle. He caught her from behind and easily subdued her by wrapping strong arms around her, pinning hers at her sides, and when she opened her mouth he placed a hand over it as he turned and carried her trembling, wiggling form back to the car. What scared her even more was the fact that he did everything without making a sound.

The other man was standing next to his door watching silently as they approached. Her captor asked him to get the first aid kit out of the trunk and she froze at the sound of that low, gravelly voice. Something about it seemed to almost reassure her that she wasn't going to be hurt worse than she already was despite her bid for freedom, but she couldn't forget those blazing eyes and the promise of death in them.

When the trunk slammed shut, Ashlyn found herself deposited on its lid with a folded blanket under her for comfort and she was now face to chest with the man who'd caught her. One large hand slipped under her chin and tipped her head up so he could survey the damage to her face. A soft growl had her closing her eyes as she tried to scoot back away from him, but his other hand was suddenly pressed against her back, preventing further escape.

"Don't move," he ordered softly. "I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to get your face cleaned up and something on that bruise before it gets too bad." Taking the soft cloth his friend had dowsed with water he began to tenderly wipe at the blood on her face, "Harold, would you crack the ice pack and wrap it in another towel, please?" As the other man was occupied with that, he asked the girl, "Do you need something for pain? We have something we can give you that will help without making you sleepy."

"Yes, please," she whispered as she kept her eyes fixed firmly on the top button of his shirt and desperately fought tears. He was actually being very gentle in his ministrations and she hadn't had anything gentle in her life since her mother died.

Two pills and a fresh bottle of water were immediately offered and she took them gratefully, hoping that they would take effect quickly and still the pounding in her head so she could focus again. A cold towel was slipped into her hand by the first guy and she lifted it automatically, not to her face where they had expected it, but to the side of her head with a soft whimper of relief as the cold penetrated the pain and eased it.

Gentle fingers were suddenly probing around the area she was icing and another whimper, this one of pain, escaped before she could censor it along with some of the tears she'd been struggling to hold back. The poking stopped instantly and a large hand tenderly cradled the uninjured side of her face and drew her close to a strong warm chest, allowing the ice pack to stay in place while her hand fell away from it.

"It's alright; no one's going to hurt you anymore. I promise," came that soft low voice.

Unable to resist, she quietly dared to asked, "What about you?"

The other hand rubbed lightly up and down her spine, soothingly, "I would be the absolute last person to hurt you. I will be the one standing between you and the world to protect you from anything."

"Why?"

"I'll explain everything to you when we get someplace safe and you're not pain-addled. I swear to you; I will be as honest as I can and will tell you everything I know."

For some reason, that answer comforted her and some of the tension in the set of her body relaxed and she let herself lean into the big man. She had no true idea what he even looked like since she had only seen him from the side and was afraid to stare him directly in the eyes, but he felt safe to her. He allowed it for several minutes without moving but eventually knew they had to get going. John eased her into a slightly different position so that he could still keep her head with the ice pack pressed against him and lifted her slight body from the trunk lid. Harold moved around them to open the door as the man slowly leaned down to place her on the seat. He straightened just enough to look at his friend while still holding the pack in place, "Are you up to driving?"

"Of course. You take care of her; I'll make sure we get home in one piece."

He nodded his appreciation then asked Finch to hold the ice for a moment so he could get in the back seat from the other side. Once he was seated, John reached over to cup his hand around the girl's head and guided her to lay down with the uninjured side of her face and head resting on the blanket he'd placed on his legs. The other man closed the door carefully and hurried to the driver's seat so he could get them home.

Every ten minutes or so, Ashlyn felt the ice pack come off the side of her head and move down to her cheek and after about half an hour, the pills they'd given her kicked in and some of the pounding finally eased. Between the cold alternating on her injuries, the warmth of the man she rested against, the soothing motion of the car, and light repetitive stroking of his free hand down her arm, Ashlyn was almost relaxed enough to fall asleep. The shock of that feeling made her eyes pop back open in alarm. The only person who had ever made her feel safe had been her mother. Her step-father had been an abusive man and her uncle even worse, so her dealings with men had not been positive ones so far in life. Why was it this man, whose very size intimidated her beyond belief, made her feel safe and protected?

John studied the play of emotions displayed so easily on his daughter's face. One moment she looked almost relaxed, and the next she was tense and fearful again. He made a silent vow to himself to take that fear away as soon as he possibly could and show this new-found child of his that she would always be safe in his care. The ice that had enveloped his heart for so long had begun to melt the moment he realized that his former lover had given birth to his child. Gazing down at her in wonder, he felt the ice shatter away, leaving a warmth deep inside, a feeling he hadn't experienced in a very long time.

Love.

Love for an abused teenage girl that was a mixture of both Jessica and John; and he could actually see bits of himself in her already beyond the coal black hair, making him eager to get to know her for who she was and perhaps have a hand in guiding her into what she would be. When he and Finch had cared for the baby after the machine had spit her number out at them, he'd found that he really did have some paternal feelings after all, and this little one was bringing them out in force. His one regret was that he hadn't actually killed Martin Arndt, just insured that he wouldn't be making it to that presentation at work today…or any time in the near future.

The car came to a stop in front of a large set of gates that opened silently when Harold tapped in a security code on the black box beside the driveway and pressed his thumb to a small scanner. Catching his partner's look in the mirror, he shrugged slightly, "I thought this would be a more comfortable place to bring her."

When the girl made a vague movement like she was going to sit up, John easily kept her still by pressing one large hand to her shoulder and murmuring a quiet reassurance. Looking at the back of Finch's head he commented, "Whatever you think is best in this situation." When he heard a derisive snort from the front seat, he smirked before turning his attention to their surroundings.

The drive was flanked by plenty of trees kept neat by regular trimming and the grass under them reflected the same care. When an opening came, a large two story house stood before them facing a circular drive planted in the middle with a beautiful fountain and flowers. Harold stopped directly in front of the house and got out, reaching back to open the door behind him and popping the trunk lid as well.

Sliding carefully out from under Ashlyn, John took a moment to straighten to his full height and stretch before reaching in and easily plucking the teen off the seat and into his arms. Strolling along behind his friend who had taken the lead so he could unlock the door, John admired the look of the house from the outside and hoped the inside was as welcoming and comfortable.

Limping a little more than usual from the long drive and kneeling on the floor earlier, Harold opened the door and escorted the pair behind him to an inviting living room with a large black suede couch and matching chairs. His partner gently eased the girl into a sitting position at one end of the couch and knelt on one knee slowly in front of her. At first the billionaire thought the man was as stiff as he was until he realized that John was moving extra slow to give Ashlyn time to adjust and made a mental note to do the same until she got used to them. Giving them a few moments, Finch went back to the car to get the girl's suitcases and spotted her purse on the floor in the back, so he brought that in as well.

"Would you like something to drink?" John inquired. "You can't have anything more for pain for another couple of hours, I'm afraid."

"I'm okay, the pills you gave me earlier have helped, and I'm not thirsty at the moment." Ashlyn's eyes flickered quickly over the face of the handsome man, taking her first actual good look at him full on and without the terror of before, and dropped to her lap before darting back up again to stare as her face paled.

"What's wrong?" John asked softly, reaching out with one hand to cautiously smooth back the long hair that had slipped over her shoulder. "Am I really that terrifying? I don't mean to be; not to you."

Almost fearfully, the girl looked up at Harold as he reentered the room and requested, "Could I have my purse, please?"

Limping forward slowly, he extended it to her, then eased himself into one of the chairs facing the couch and settled his leg on the footrest. John shifted slightly so that he was sitting on the heavy wood coffee table behind him and watched the teen as she opened her purse, pulled out a small wallet, and began flipping through pictures and paper until she found what she was looking for.

Ashlyn pulled out the picture and studied it for several moments while the two men waited in patient silence. Then, she looked up at John, pale green eyes probing his face for something before returning to the picture in her hand. Finally, she offered it to him, then sat back and watched for his reaction.

Taking the photo carefully so he didn't startle the girl, Reese looked at it and blanched in shock; the hand holding it began shaking violently despite his best efforts to remain impassive. Seeing his friend's reaction, Harold shifted position enough to be able to look as well and understood the military man's response. It was a shot of him with Jessica, both facing the camera almost cheek to cheek, with big smiles and bright, happy expressions.

"That's you with my mom, isn't it?"

He had to swallow a couple of times to get his voice to work properly, but it still broke as he whispered, "Yes. Yes it is." John handed the photo back to her and closed his eyes for a moment before lifting his gaze to meet hers, "That was taken sixteen years ago, right after I proposed to her." He took a deep breath and continued, "We had gone to the wedding of a friend of ours in Maine that fall and the next day we were out walking this beautiful nature trail that led to a small lake surrounded by trees that were red, orange, and gold in color. I thought it was the perfect place and I dropped to my knees and begged her to marry me. After she said yes and I put the ring on her finger, this older couple walked past and I asked them to take a picture of us." He pulled out his wallet and opened it to reveal the identical photo in one the protective sleeves.

"Why didn't you get married? What happened?"

John stared blindly at the picture of his beautiful Jessica, "I was deployed without warning and couldn't tell her anything; I just vanished without a trace for the next year. When I came back, I was a different man and didn't feel that I could offer her anything anymore. The things I'd seen, the things I'd done…I just felt dead inside. So I called her and told her I couldn't marry her." Blue eyes dark with pain met his daughter's gaze, "She tried to talk to me, said that before I did anything or made any decisions she had something to tell me. I wouldn't listen. I was foolish enough to think she'd be better off without me and I hung up on her." He shook his head, "She tried a few more times, though, stubborn woman that she was. I didn't answer the phone and deleted her messages without listening to them. It wasn't until she'd married…Arndt…and been settled with him for several years that I finally broke down and called her. We talked for a short time before she had to go, but we spoke briefly off and on over the next few years."

"And she never said anything?"

"No. Jessica never even hinted that she'd had a child or that there were any problems in her life." He put his wallet back in its pocket, "Then she was gone. I only found out about you this morning and when I did, the two of us," he gestured slightly towards Finch, "took a road trip to find you and get you away from your uncle."

Ashlyn put everything back in her purse and set it aside before scooting closer to the edge of the couch, causing John to freeze so he didn't do anything to scare her. She stared down at her hands, twisting the ring on her right hand before pulling it off and holding it up for him to see, "This is the ring you gave her that day, isn't it?"

He didn't dare touch it for fear he'd inadvertently alarm her, "Yes."

"She kept this ring in a hidden compartment of her jewelry box until I was ten, then gave it to me. She told me that she had a secret to share with me and no one else could know until the time was right." Ashlyn slowly reached out and took one of John's hands in hers, placed the ring on his palm, and carefully closed his fingers around it while folding her own small hands around his, "I think it's time."

John's free hand enveloped both of hers completely and he looked steadily into her ice green eyes, "Ashlyn, you are my daughter. Your mother didn't tell me she was pregnant, and then I was gone and everything fell apart. I can't tell you how sorry I am for that; because if I'd known, I never would have let her go and I never would have left you alone all this time. If I'd listened to her, maybe she'd be alive now and we'd be a family. I don't know what I would have been like as a father then, but I can tell you, right here, right now, that you are my child and I will never give you up or turn my back on you again."

"Mom told me that she regretted that you didn't know about me and she thought you would have made a great dad. She told me everything she could remember about you and gave me the picture so I would know what you looked like. Her husband resented that I wasn't his and didn't want her to tell me about you so I had to pretend I didn't know. The only good thing I can say about him is that he gave me the education I needed and wanted, but that's all. I wish that you and I had been able to be together from the beginning, but I understand."

She dropped her eyes to their joined hands, "Mom told me that if you ever found out about me, I would be cared for and protected for the rest of my life and wouldn't have to be scared anymore like I was with the Arndts. She said that you were hard-wired in such a way that once you knew about me, nothing would stand in your way and I would have the father I always wanted, despite what you may have thought about yourself."

"She was right, too. When I saw your picture and realized you were mine, I knew that I had to get you and bring you home to me. I never thought of myself as being very paternal, but something in me has already made the determination that I can't let you go. You belong with me and I will keep you safe and love you as I should have all these years." He squeezed her hands gently in reassurance and a warm smile lit his deep blue eyes.

Ashlyn took a steadying breath, "I can't tell you that it's going to be easy for me. Between my step-father and his brother, I haven't had any positive male influences in my life and both of them were…cruel. Mom's husband didn't want men around me, that's part of why I was home-schooled, and he even made sure that all of my teachers were female. If a repairman had to come to the house, I was either locked in my room or the basement so they didn't see me. Right before mom was killed in that car accident, she said that she thought it was because he was afraid that you might show up and claim both of us."

Taking a deep breath, John knew he couldn't keep secrets from his daughter, no matter how much he wanted to, "Your mother didn't die in a car accident, sweetheart."

Her eyes widened, "What do you mean? He told me…you mean he lied to me about my own mother?" When John nodded slowly, she demanded, "Then what really happened? Did he kill her like he kept threatening to?"

Head bowed in remembered grief and pain, he nodded again, "They fought, he hit her and she fell, breaking her neck. Arndt panicked and staged the car accident so he didn't get caught and played the grieving widower when police questioned him."

Burying her face in her hands, heedless of the pain in her bruised cheek, Ashlyn let the tears fall, "The only reason she stayed with him was because of the threats. He said he'd hunt us down if we left and he'd hurt me to make her pay. I tried to convince her to run anyway so we could be free, but she was too afraid of what he'd do to me. Said she couldn't, wouldn't, jeopardize my safety." A memory suddenly surfaced and she slowly raised her head to look at her new-found father, "She told me, the morning of the day she died, that she was going to get in touch with someone who might be able to help us, or at least get us someplace safe and away from him. I think…I think she may have been talking about you."

John was nodding his head, "She did call me that day, and we were supposed to meet up. Jessica said she needed some help, but couldn't go into detail over the phone."

Silence fell in the room as the two contemplated what might have been in their lives had things come out differently. Finally, Harold spoke up, "I don't know about the two of you, but since we missed lunch, I'm suddenly starving and would very much like to get something to eat."

The military man couldn't resist the chuckle that escaped, "I think that food and some rest would be a very good idea, Harold; for all of us." He rose to his feet with care so he didn't frighten the girl, "Do you have any suggestions?"

"There's a delightful Chinese place that delivers we can order from if you're both interested?"

Reese nodded in agreement and looked down at Ashlyn who also approved. When his friend started to lift his leg off the footstool, the big man stopped him, "Do you have menus floating around here someplace?"

"Of course. Through that door, turn left into the kitchen and the menus for Panda Palace are in the top drawer of the file cabinet on your right, in alphabetical order."

"You two stay put, then, and I'll be right back."


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4

Once he left the room, Ashlyn shifted so she could look over at the billionaire and quietly asked, "He called you Harold, and I know the name my mom gave me for him is John, but that's all I know."

Realizing that they'd dragged an injured, terrified child with them without ever actually identifying themselves was a nasty revelation to the man and one he knew needed rectified immediately, "My name is Harold Finch and your father, John Reese, started out as my employee and over the last year has become not only my colleague but my friend as well." He could hear said partner digging around in the other room, "He doesn't want to start this relationship with you off with lies, and neither do I. However, there are some things that I'm not sure you need to be told just yet about certain things." Seeing her look of fear, he hastened to reassure her, "Nothing serious, I promise you. I simply want to have the chance to talk with John about when and how to tell you things. You're obviously a highly intelligent young lady but I don't want to overload you with history while you're trying to start a new life."

Ashlyn nodded faintly, "I understand what you're telling me and I will try to be patient while we figure this whole thing out."

At that point, Reese returned with menus in hand which he passed out; he also had a small pad of paper and pen he'd pulled out from his suit coat pocket to write orders down. Seating himself again on the coffee table, he quickly jotted down a couple of things for himself before looking over at Finch who was giving him a hostile stare.

"What did I do now, Harold?"

"You do know that you are seated on my table, don't you, Mr. Reese?"

"Yes, Harold, I do know that I'm seated on the table. Why?"

"Coffee tables are meant to be used to put things, such as knickknacks, coasters, drinks, occasionally food, objects of that nature."

"And?"

"Your hindquarters do not fall into any of the aforementioned items, Mr. Reese. I have chairs, why don't you avail yourself with one of them?"

"Two reasons, Harold. One, the chairs are further away from my daughter than I really want to be right at this moment." The girl flushed shyly at the affectionate smile he sent her. "And two, this annoys the crap out of you, so it's an added bonus."

Finch glowered at his friend, "If I were in any better shape at the moment, I'd throw something at you, John. You know this, right?"

"Yes, Harold. Now, what would you like to order?"

"Crab Rangoon, two shrimp eggrolls, and beef with broccoli, please."

"Got it. Ashlyn, what sounds good to you?"

"Could I have egg drop soup and some plain fried rice, please?"

Both men studied her silently for several moments until she began to squirm a bit. Finally Harold quietly stated, "Money is not an object, Ashlyn; if there is something more you'd like to have, don't feel that you have to be concerned about it."

John agreed, "You're much too thin as it is; your current weight is well below what it should be."

She sighed, "I know I'm thin for my height and age, but I haven't had much opportunity to eat anything extra between my step-father and uncle. As long as I didn't appear anorexic, in their opinion, I was healthy enough to get by and not tarnish the family image on the rare occasions I was allowed to be in public."

Looking over at his partner, Finch grumbled, "Feed her."

Without taking his deep blue eyes from the girl, John's soft gravelly voice replied, "I plan on it."

The girl held out her hands in a placating manner, "I will eat, I promise, but I just can't today."

"Why?" Harold demanded.

She grazed one hand lightly over her bruised cheek and whispered, "Because it will hurt to chew and I'm a little nauseous still." She hated admitting weakness, especially in front of this big, powerful man who was her father, and struggled to prevent the tears that were welling up in her eyes from falling.

When she failed and several tears slipped down her face, John reacted on pure instinct. Moving from his position on the table, he dropped the menu, pen, and tablet he was holding and sat next to the teen on the couch, drawing her into his arms. Careful of her injuries, he tenderly pressed her head to his chest and began stroking one hand over her long hair. Lowering his head until his chin rested lightly on her hair, the big, bad, scary military man began murmuring soft words of reassurance and comfort in that quiet raspy voice that soothed her.

Thinking back to all the times she'd been afraid of something or someone, and how every time she'd had to just be strong or sit and cry alone in her room, Ashlyn realized that she was no longer on her own. She'd barely met the man, knew only that he was her father, had proposed to her mother, had been in the military, and now worked for Harold Finch doing…something…but she trusted him. She knew in her heart that he would be there to protect her, shelter her, shield her from the world. If someone tried to hurt her, she had no doubt that they would pay for it with serious injuries if not outright death. She was scared to death of him still, but part of her craved this touch, this gentle reassurance if his presence and care.

Somewhere in the back of her mind came her mother's voice, _'If he ever finds you, or if you ever find him, your father will stop at nothing to see to your safety; and he will love you. Oh, baby girl, you have no idea how much he will love you!"_

Ashlyn didn't think it was possible to feel this kind of attachment already to a man she'd barely met, but with her mother's words echoing in her thoughts she gave herself over to his care for the moment and let the tears flow.

Both men were relieved when the teen finally broke down and cried. This was a catharsis she desperately needed in order to move on with her new life. Knowing John would be occupied for a bit, Harold rose cautiously, ignoring his friend's glare for moving when he should be resting, and picked up the paper with a questioning look. Reese barely shook his head, indicating he had already written down what he wanted and there was nothing further, so the billionaire limped out of the room to place the order and return the menus to their drawer.

When he returned, Ashlyn was still being cradled in her father's strong arms, but her sobbing had faded to an occasional hitch and she no longer had her face buried in his chest. Grabbing a couple of tissues, he slowly held them out to the girl who was watching him from her protected position. He smiled, pleased, when she took them with a whispered thank you.

"If the two of you would like to change into more comfortable clothing, there are two bedrooms at the top of the stairs on the left for you. My room is on the other side and each one has its own bathroom."

"I didn't think to bring any extra clothes when we left this morning," John admitted as he gradually released his daughter.

"I took the liberty of taking your 'go-bag' from the office and placing it in the trunk before we left," Harold assured him.

Thanking his friend, John rose, easily lifting the girl to a standing position as he did so and steadying her when she tottered a bit. After blinking a few times to get her vision to settle and taking a couple of deep breaths to quell the bit of nausea, Ashlyn was able to accompany her father to the stairs where he picked up both of her suitcases, his own bag, and gestured for her to go first.

Reaching the top, she turned left and found two open doors before them so she looked to John to decide which he wanted. Poking his head into each room briefly, he nodded to one, "This one, if you don't mind. I like having an escape route and this one has it. Something I can't get over from my days in the military."

She didn't argue and stepped into what was to be her room while they were staying here. Painted a tasteful shade of soft grey, the two windows were hung with dark grey drapes and white sheers what matched the queen sized bed's comforter and dust ruffle. Mahogany wood made up the bed frame, dresser, chest of drawers, and desk while sliding doors revealed a big walk in closest. In the opposite corner from the door was the bathroom, painted to match, with a standing shower and a tub she thought she might be able to swim in, it was so big. Sitting on top of the chest was a large television complete with a DVD player, while on a table next to the bed was a radio/simulated sound maker that could be used to help one fall asleep.

Her father set her things carefully on the bench at the foot of the bed, "We're in for the night, so feel free to change into whatever you're most comfortable wearing. I plan on taking you shopping for clothes as soon as you're recovered enough to do so."

"Alright. Thank you," she said timidly. He flashed her a warm smile and stepped out, closing the door behind him. She waited a moment before creeping over to the door and testing the handle, relieved when it turned easily in her hand. Ashlyn couldn't help the wariness, she'd lived in fear for far too long to be completely trusting of a man she'd just met, but she was also feeling more and more optimistic as things progressed.

Opening her suitcases, she pulled out a pair of knee length shorts and a loose fitting tank top before carefully arranging her things into a couple of drawers. Taking off her dirty clothes, she changed into her chosen attire and pulled off her shoes. She preferred to go barefoot, but not everyone liked that in their home, so she put on clean footies before getting her brush out and drawing it gingerly through her long hair after taking the scrunchie out. Her hair was her one true vanity. Jessica had told her often enough that she was a beautiful girl, but Ashlyn just didn't see it other than her thick heavy mane of hair and unusual eyes.

Putting her toiletries in the bathroom, she glanced at her bruised cheek momentarily in the mirror, making a face at the dark hand print that stood out lividly on her creamy skin. Opening the closet, Ashlyn hefted her now empty luggage and set them neatly inside before returning to the bed and running her hand admiringly over the silken comforter. She looked at the radio closely to see what sounds it offered and was surprised at the selection. The sound of a door opening downstairs and voices drifting up alerted her that dinner must have arrived, but she waited. She hadn't been told to come down after she was done, and she didn't want to just assume anything.

A tap on her door made her jump before she hurried over to open it. She'd made the mistake once when she'd been sick with pneumonia to just tell her step-father to come in and he'd taken a belt to her backside with the admonishment that she was to always come to the door and not make people open it themselves. Ashlyn was surprised to find her father standing there, no longer dressed in his suit, wearing shorts, a tee shirt, and running shoes. Somehow, she hadn't been able to imagine him in anything but the dress shirt and matching coat and pants; either way, she'd been blessed with a handsome man for her new parent and she could see why her mother had fallen for him.

"You settled in?"

She nodded slightly, "Yes, sir."

Wincing as he led the way back down the steps, he asked, "How about you call me 'John' until you find something you're more comfortable with? 'Sir' makes me feel much older than I am and reminds me too much of when I was on active duty."

"Alright," Ashlyn agreed, "but what do I call your associate?"

"Harold will be fine," came the response from said associate who was standing at the kitchen table already pulling things out of a paper bag.

John pulled out a chair for his daughter and once she was seated, he opened the fridge to see what was in it to drink. Finding bottled water and orange juice, he poured her a glass of juice and got a bottle for himself and Finch and placed everything on the table.

The brown haired man positioned a large container of soup, a paper plate of plain fried rice, and a plastic bowl of scallops in garlic sauce in front of her, "Everything there should be sufficiently soft for you to chew without causing further pain." When she opened her mouth to protest the amount of food he stopped her with a quiet comment, "Just eat what you can, the rest can be saved for tomorrow."

"Thank you," she responded softly.

John sat down across from her and eagerly opened his fried chicken wings, wonton soup, and sweet and sour shrimp while Harold lowered himself stiffly to his chair to begin eating. The girl was careful to chew only on the left side so she didn't cause herself more pain by trying to use the right.

As she was finishing, John reached over and placed two mild pain pills in front of her, "It's been long enough that you can have these. I have something stronger for you when you're ready to go to bed if you want them."

Ashlyn thanked him as she gulped them down with the last swallow of juice and both men smiled when they saw that she'd eaten most of her dinner despite her fears she wouldn't be able to. Clean up was easy since everything was plastic and simply tossed in the trash so John did the honors while Harold finished eating and threw his own away.

"Would you like to go back to the living room and talk?" John asked the teenager. When she nodded, everyone trooped back in, Harold taking his previous seat so he could prop his leg up, Ashlyn curled up in one corner of the couch, and John sat on the opposite end, closest to the chair his friend was in so the girl could face them both.

Finch, who had also changed clothes to a pair of pants and a polo shirt, absently rubbed his leg as he addressed the child, "John and I spoke briefly before dinner arrived and we've agreed to tell you as much as we can concerning what we do and why. We both know that you are extremely bright and can understand what we're about to tell you. That being said, you also must understand that this conversation can never go any further than the three of us as it could potentially put not only our lives at stake, but yours and countless others, too."

Looking back and forth between the two men, she finally ventured to ask, "Do you work for the government?"

"No," John shook his head. "What we do is outside the parameters the government sets. Do you understand what we're asking of you? Can you keep this secret?"

"I've been keeping secrets all my life; I don't think one more will be a problem," she assured him.

Nodding to Finch to continue, John allowed his colleague to tell Ashlyn about the invention of the machine, the decision to use it to help others, their meeting and working together, the cultivation of Carter and Fusco from the police, and finally the discovery of her existence. She listened in complete silence through the entire story, absorbing everything she was being told and understanding what they meant by lives being in danger. If they were discovered, they would be branded traitors and disposed of quickly; plus all those people they had been helping would no longer have someone fighting for them and keeping them alive.

"So, I believe that's everything. Did you understand all that or do you have any questions?"

"I understand, and I realize the difference you make in the lives of others and how important it is." She briefly made eye contact with each man, "This is one secret I can keep without hesitation and thank you for trusting me with it."

John leaned forward a bit, "If you're going to be a part of my life, our lives, then you needed to know. I've had to live most of my life in the shadows without family or friends and I've come to realize how important they are to have. I lost your mother because I couldn't be open and honest with either her or myself; I won't lose you the same way. I can't promise to be perfect, but I can tell you that I will do everything in my power to never lie to you and I swear that I will never hurt you on purpose."

Pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, Ashlyn rested her chin on top and studied her father, "I promise that I will try to be open with you. I've spent most of my life in my bedroom or in the office in the basement where I studied and met with my teachers. I didn't get the chance to make friends or go out places because my step-father kept mom and me in the house as much as possible. My uncle would let me go up to the store, but never out with people because they might find out about the abuse and that would ruin his 'perfect family unit' image."

"Tell us about your studies," Harold coaxed. "I was fascinated when I saw your bio about graduating high school so young and that you have an eidetic memory."

She nodded, "Mom was excited about my memory at first, until she realized that it also meant I would never forget the things he did to both of us. The one thing he did do for me was arrange my schooling and bring in teachers from all over the country. He told them to make sure I had what I needed to satisfy the educational system and once that was done, I could branch out into whatever suited me."

"And what were your interests outside of the normal course of studies?" Harold queried.

A slight smile lifted the uninjured corner of her lips, "Anything and everything; but I really liked exploring languages and computer science."

John rolled his eyes and teased, "Wonderful, another computer geek to turn my brain to mush."

The other man snorted, "More than likely the two of you will drive me to distraction speaking in tongues."

She knew that Finch was into computers, having designed the machine that gave them the numbers, but she hadn't known that her father was into languages as well. Ashlyn leaned forward a bit eagerly, "What languages can you speak?"

"I'm fluent in Spanish, Arabic, Russian, and German with a smattering of French, Turkish, and Mandarin thrown in," John replied. "Which have you studied?"

"Spanish, Gaelic, and American Sign Language are my primaries. I'd love to learn Arabic, German, and Russian if you'll teach me," she said shyly.

"I'd be delighted, if you'll teach me some sign language and Gaelic in return."

Ice green eyes lit up with pleasure at having the opportunity to learn more of something she loved causing both men to gawk a bit in surprise at their stunning intensity. John could hardly wait to have his child healed and well-fed so he could see what she truly looked like. He listened quietly while the other two dissolved into 'geek-speak' about computers, musing over the subtle similarities between his daughter and her mother in certain gestures and expressions. When a certain question caught his attention, he snapped back into focus instantly.

"Could I, maybe, help with some of the computer side of things when you get numbers from your machine? I'm very good with computers and might be able to do some good."

The first instinct of both men was to immediately deny this request, but then, they each thought about it a bit further. Harold looked to John for the final decision; this was his offspring after all. The dark haired man took a deep breath, "I'm not sure right now, Ashlyn, but I'm not going to say no without thinking about it more. I prefer to keep you safely away from some of the people we deal with, though having you at the computers while Harold helps me some in the field could be beneficial. We'll talk more about it, all three of us, before making any firm decisions; is that fair?"

She was actually surprised that he hadn't just said no and left it at that. This was a man who had many different layers that needed to be peeled back one by one in order to get to know him. He made life and death decisions at the drop of a hat, but when he had the chance to think things through more, he took it, studied it, and then made his choice.

Ashlyn nodded in agreement, "Yes, it is, and thank you."

Glancing down at his watch, Finch realized it was getting late and he was not only sore, but very tired as well, "As much as I have enjoyed getting to know you, Ashlyn, I'm afraid that I must call it a night and find my bed." He shifted his leg to the floor and stiffly began to rise. When the leg buckled slightly, he lurched sideways, expecting to fall back into the chair, which he did not look forward to as it would jar his already aching back.

John was already on his feet, one strong arm locking around his friend's waist while his free hand caught Harold's forearm. Between height and strength, he was able to prevent the other man from taking a tumble and steadied him so he could get his leg to function properly. As soon as the billionaire was stable, John released him and stepped away, knowing the man hated it when his body betrayed him like that.

After taking a deep breath, Finch nodded to his friend in silent thanks and smiled over at the girl, "Good night, Ashlyn. I hope you sleep well."

"Good night…Harold…and thank you."

He hobbled, for lack of a better word, to the stairs and used the banister to drag his uncomfortable body up to his room. John listened closely until he heard the bedroom door click shut, then released a soft sigh and turned his attention back to the girl with a smile.

She cocked her head to one side, sending her long hair tumbling over her shoulder, "You watch over him as much as he'll allow, don't you?"

"Yes. I don't have many friends, living a solitary life will do that to you, and I count him as one of the very few I do have. He hasn't had an easy life and I worry when he overdoes it like today."

Ashlyn nodded. She could see that in the big man; he was already protective of her so she could easily imagine his loyalty to the person he'd worked with daily. She started to ask another question and was interrupted by a huge yawn. Horrified by her lack of manners and what his response to it might be, the teen clapped a hand over her mouth and stared at him.

Her father simply chuckled, "Looks like Harold's not the only one who's tired." He stood up and stepped away from her so she didn't feel crowded, "I'm beginning to feel my age, too, after a day like this one."

Unfolding her legs and pushing herself upright, Ashlyn was caught off-guard by the sudden spinning of the room. The pills at dinner had helped a great deal with pain, but she'd apparently moved faster than her brain and body could keep up. Instead of plummeting forward and into the table as expected, she fell against a hard chest and felt her father's arms wrap around her as he prevented a nasty fall. Closing her eyes despite the alarms ringing in her head at being too close to a strange person, especially a male, the young woman let her forehead rest on his sternum for a few moments and let the world slow down.

As soon as she lifted her head, John released her and stepped back, knowing he'd probably scared the crap out of her, "Are you alright?"

She pressed a hand lightly to her head, "Yes, sorry about that. I think I just stood up too fast and my brain took exception to it. Thank you for not letting me do a dive onto the coffee table. After you sat on it, I can only imagine what…Harold…would say if I took a header into it."

"I doubt he'd be as concerned about the table's well-being as he would be of yours." He went into the kitchen and when he returned, he had a cup of water and two bottles in his hands. He gave her the cup and held up the pills, "The usual or something stronger?"

"The usual, please," she stated. As much as she might want something more, Ashlyn was afraid what it might do to her system and wanted to be as alert as she could be through the night. Trust was hard to come by in her mind and while she was rapidly becoming more comfortable with the man, she still had that niggling fear that wouldn't let go.

He shook out two pills and handed them to her before disappearing back into the kitchen to put the second bottle away. He came back in quickly, "Take the water up with you. I'll wake you in four to six hours to check on you and give you some more pills."

That didn't necessarily reassure her to know he would be coming into her room, but he'd been doing everything he could to take care of her and make her comfortable that she really couldn't protest. She led the way again back up the stairs and paused outside the door to her room, "Good night, and thank you. For everything."

"Good night, sweetheart. If you need something, come get me." He gestured to his room, "Just open the door and call my name; I'm a very light sleeper so I'll hear you. Just…don't try to approach the bed unless I'm fully awake, please." He didn't want her to walk up to the bed and be greeted by a large, half-awake menace with a gun.

She nodded as she slipped into her room and softly shut the door. Ashlyn waited by the entrance to her room until she heard his close before she moved away, turned on the light beside the bed, grabbed some clothes, and went to the bathroom to take a shower. Closing the door, she flipped the lock despite knowing that if her father really wanted in for some reason, that wouldn't keep him out. She really didn't think that he would do anything, but she'd followed this same ritual since she was old enough to shower on her own. She turned the water on and stripped as it warmed up, adjusting the temperature until it was comfortable, and then stepped in to let the warmth flow over her.

Cautiously she lathered up her hair with a sweet smelling shampoo, rinsed it, and then used a light conditioner to help with tangles. When she finished bathing, Ashlyn pulled on another comfortable tank top and a pair of snug running shorts she preferred to sleep in. Drying her hair as thoroughly as she could with a thick towel, she ran a brush through it and braided it in a heavy plait to fall down her back. After listening at the door for a moment, she quietly turned the lock and opened it, finding her room the same as when she went in.

After a soft sigh of relief, the girl folded the silky comforter back and set it on the bench before crawling under the airy cotton sheet and light blanket that were left. She reached over and pulled the radio closer so she could see it better. After making sure the sound was turned way down, Ashlyn turned on the nature sounds and began exploring the different settings before settling on one. Turning off the light, the exhausted young woman fell asleep to the soothing sound of water lapping against the shoreline while an occasional loon called in the distance.


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5

John woke exactly five hours after he'd stepped into his bedroom. For a minute, he didn't move at all, letting the sounds of the house reassure him that all was well. Tossing back the sheet, he got up and pulled a shirt on to go with the shorts he'd slept in before grabbing the bottle of pills to heading for his daughter's room.

He eased the door open slightly and peered in, spotting her still form in the large bed thanks to a nightlight in one corner. John hated to wake her, but he wanted to get the pills in her so she wouldn't be too uncomfortable over the next couple of hours. Pushing the door the rest of the way open, he stepped in and softly called her name a couple of times. When she began stirring, he increased the volume slightly and waited.

Her mother was talking to her in a dream, telling her that everything would be alright now that she'd found her father. He would take care of her and see to it that she had everything she needed for the rest of her life. Ashlyn could hear her mom calling her name and it gradually brought her out of the dream and into a reality where her father was trying to awaken her. Slowly, she pulled herself out of the realm of sleep and back into her bedroom.

Thankfully, John had stayed by the door until she was alert enough to acknowledge his presence; otherwise she was afraid she might have panicked. She reached over and turned on her light again, sitting up as she did so. Once she illuminated the room, the former military man approached the bed, holding out her pills, "It's time for another dose, sweetheart."

She blushed at the endearment, his voice huskier than normal from sleep, and thanked him as she accepted the pills and swallowed them with the water left over from earlier. When she set the cup back on the table and slid down onto her pillows, John couldn't resist reaching out and tugging the blanket and sheet back up over her shoulders. Though Ashlyn tensed a bit at the move, she didn't protest, so he allowed himself one more bit of paternal care and tenderly brushed one hand lightly over her head before turning out the light and returning to the doorway.

"Good night, sweetheart; sleep yourself out."

"Good night," she whispered as she let herself drift back to sleep, his gravelly voice echoing through her dreams as she dared to believe something might actually go right in her life.

John didn't bother going back to bed after giving his daughter her medication. It was a little after four thirty in the morning and he'd actually gotten just under five hours of sleep. Now that he was awake, his body was ready to move so he pulled on his running shoes, grabbed his cell phone, trotted downstairs, and exited into a crisp morning that was beginning to stir with various birdsongs. After stretching to loosen up, he jogged back along the well-lit driveway to the gate, then followed the fence line around the property so he was familiar with the lay out of the terrain. The sun was barely beginning to light his path but he moved with a sure-footed gait despite the minimal illumination.

As he was turning to trot back up the driveway, his phone chimed softly and he pulled it out. The text from his friend caused him to increase his pace to a flat out run for the house.

_Ashlyn needs you._

The front door was already standing open and Harold was positioned just inside as he came up the walk, "I believe she's having a nightmare, but I didn't want to be the one to try to wake her since she's already showing signs of being more comfortable with you."

John could hear the girl's cries as he hit the steps, taking them two at a time until he reached the top and opened the door to Ashlyn's room. He froze in the doorway, letting his eyes adjust to the dimmer interior before moving in the direction of the bed. His daughter's voice was dwindling to fearful whimpers that broke his heart and caused him to act without thinking things through.

The girl was lying on her back, blankets tangled around her from the thrashing she'd been doing, when he reached her and placed one large, strong hand on her shoulder and gently shook. Her reaction, both vocal and physical, startled and horrified him to the core.

"_Please, mom, let's just get out of here and run away; he can't hurt either of us if we just disappear, right?" Ashlyn was using a washcloth to wipe away the blood from the nasty cut on her mother's upper arm. Her husband had knocked a glass from her hand which shattered on the floor, then struck her hard enough to cause her to fall and land on the shards._

"_We can't, baby, I won't just take off without a plan. I'm so afraid that if he catches us he'll hurt you or worse and I can't let that happen."_

_The teen finished cleaning the cut and pressed several gauze squares to it to stop the bleeding, "But I'm afraid of he's going to do if we don't get away."_

_Jessica reached out to stroke a loving hand over the long black hair of her only child, "I know, honey, but I'm going to get in touch with someone who might be able to help us. If I tell him what's going on, he'll find a way, even if he just gets us someplace safe."_

_The dream shifted and she was suddenly a spectator to her mother's murder, seeing Arndt strike her, throwing her back into a table, hearing the hideous snap of her neck, watching the light dim from Jessica's eyes. Shrieking, she tried to get to her, begging Jessica to stay alive._

_She was sitting in the backseat of the car as it careened off the road and crashed. Desperately she called for her mother, knowing it was too late._

_She was huddled in the middle of her bed, sobbing over the loss of her mother, when her step-father came in and grabbed her shoulder viciously, shouting at her to stop bawling or he'd give her something to cry about._

Ashlyn kicked away from the man in her dreams, screaming incoherently as she scrabbled across the bed and tumbled to the floor, still wrapped up in the sheet and blanket which helped cushion the fall. Fighting to get free, the girl continued to battle her nightmare.

Despite being caught off guard by Ashlyn's reaction, John's training kicked in automatically as he dove across the bed and tried to prevent her from dropping to the floor. When that failed and she struggled against the enveloping bedding, still vocalizing, he used his superior strength to stop her failing limbs, pull away the cloth, and lock her in his embrace. He sat back against the wall behind him, pulling his daughter across his legs, tucking her head under his chin, and wrapped his arms around her tight enough to restrain her frenzied movements, but not enough to hurt her in any way. John began talking to her in his soft, gravelly voice, reassuring her that she was safe and he would protect her but she needed to wake up.

After a while, his voice began to penetrate the dream world she was caught in and her cries diminished to silence, her struggles ceased slowly as she registered her inability to move was due to being held in a hug. Ashlyn could feel the carefully leashed power in the muscles of the man who cradled her in his arms. The realization that at one point in time her mother had been held by this same man hit her abruptly and she knew, without a doubt, he was the one Jessica had planned to call, he was the one who would have gotten them safely away. If only she'd called him sooner, her mother would have still been alive and that nightmare would never have happened.

John eased his grip on the teen when he felt her gradually relax, though he still held her close to his heart. When she suddenly shifted so she could wrap her arms around his neck and began to cry softly, he adjusted his own hold so he could run one big hand up and down her back while tenderly pressing her head into the crook of his shoulder with the other.

"It's alright, sweetheart, you go ahead and cry. Let it all out. I'm not going anywhere and you're safe now." He continued to whisper quietly to her, letting her get everything out of her system, knowing that in the long run she'd be better for this chance to grieve. He'd heard what she'd said out loud while dreaming and correctly interpreted what Ashlyn had been reliving. The poor child had never had the chance to properly mourn her mother's death and then was told that she'd been lied to about it all. It was no wonder she'd had a nightmare and reacted the way she had.

When she finally cried herself out, Ashlyn lay limply against her father's chest and listened to the sound of his heartbeat. It was reassuring to her, as was the loving cuddling, the calming voice, and lightly soothing touch of his hands.

"I'm sorry," she whispered hoarsely.

"For what?"

"For going crazy like that, for blubbering all over you, for all of it. I doubt you ever pictured yourself fathering a complete and utter mess like I am," she said.

John shifted his grip slightly, drawing his legs up so that his feet were flat on the floor and she was surrounded by his cradling embrace, "Since I never pictured myself as a father, I can't speak for that. However, I do believe that any child of mine would have more than their fair share of crazy considering my own personal experiences. I just hope that you don't feel the need to place yourself in dangerous situations. Poor Harold would have a heart attack if he had to worry about both of us trying to take guns away from people."

She gave a watery chuckle as he'd hoped, allowing herself to relax further into his body. Despite her freaking out on him in the middle of a nightmare, he'd stayed, held her, comforted her, and then tried to tease her into a better mood. He was obviously crazy. And he was hers.

Feeling her pliancy, John took advantage and tugged her braided hair out from between them. Pulling the band off the end, he unraveled it until her long mane hung in waves around them and began tying small locks of it into loose knots, bringing out another soft laugh.

"If you do that, I'll never get them out and will end up having to cut my hair off," she warned.

"If you ever try cutting your hair, little one, you'll find yourself walking around with mittens permanently attached to your hands and all the scissors hidden away."

She smiled at the new endearment before daring to look up into his dark blue eyes to see if he was kidding. He quirked one dark brow at her and smiling, "I love your long hair so I hope that you don't cut it for a very long time."

Ashlyn studied him for several moments before softly asking, "If I promise not to cut my hair, will you promise to help me with my fears?"

His gaze softened further, "I would help you with that regardless. Do you have a certain fear in mind you'd like to start with?"

"You."

John's heart clenched in pain at her open acknowledgement that she was afraid of him, but he kept his face calm and serene as he slowly lowered his head to place a tender kiss on her forehead, "Then that's where we'll begin." He drew back again, "What do you fear most about me?" He nearly laughed when she gave him a 'well, DUH' look that only teenagers could pull off.

"Well, there's the fact that you're positively huge and very strong," she began.

He shrugged slightly as he proved her point by gathering her up and pushing himself to his feet while holding her. Setting her down on the bed, he released her and eased himself down in front of her, "Rather than fearing my strength, take comfort in it; know that it will never be used to cause injury and will instead protect you." John sighed softly, "I won't lie to you, Ashlyn, ever. I can be a very hard man; I've had to be with my military background. I've done some bad things to people, though most of them deserved it, and I've had extensive training in weaponry and hand to hand combat. I'd like to teach you to handle a gun so you're comfortable with one as well as show you some self-defense so if for some reason I'm not there and something happens, you can get yourself out of a situation or protect yourself until I can get to you."

"I already suspected your training just by your being ex-military and the work you do with…Harold. I'd be interested in learning about guns and self-defense in case I need it."

John nodded, "It may also help you with your fear of me if you can defend yourself. Not that you'll ever need it around me, but you might be more secure." He reached out slowly and undid one of the knots he'd put in her hair, "I never thought of myself as a demonstrative person, other than when I was with your mother, but I keep finding myself wanting to give you a quick hug or hold you, or ruffle your hair." John laughed softly, "Or tie it in knots."

She grinned back at him before sobering, "I understand because I've been feeling the same way. I don't mean the knots, of course. But I want to be hugged again." Ashlyn dropped her head as tears welled up again, "I haven't been held since mom died; she was the only one who ever hugged me." She shook her head in frustration, "I just don't get it!"

"Get what?" her father asked gently as he reached out and clasped one of her hands.

"How I can be afraid of you one minute and then wanting you to hold me and make me feel safe the next." She traced a light finger over some of the scars on his hands, "How do I get over this irrational fear of you?"

"For one, it isn't irrational. You've been abused by the men in your life and haven't had one to take care of you. Second, I may be your father, but I'm still a complete stranger other than what little your mother may have told you. And third, I know that I can be a scary man. It comes in handy in my line of work to look scary for the bad guys, then I don't have to physically make them listen to reason."

"You enjoy getting to beat up certain people, Mr. Reese, which is part of why I hired you in the first place."

Not having noticed him lurking in the doorway, Ashlyn jumped a bit at the unexpected voice. John, on the other hand, had known the moment he was there and smirked at his daughter without looking over his shoulder, "Certain people deserve it, Harold, and you know that."

The other man just shook his head, "I didn't want to intrude, but things seemed to be calming down in here and I wanted to check in."

This time, the man on the bed turned to look at his friend, "We're working through some issues, Harold, but we'll get there eventually. Things just need to be taken slowly, one step at a time for both of us."

Finch nodded his understanding, "I might suggest the possibility of speaking to a therapist, both singly and together as this might help open new windows of dialogue for you."

The teen looked up at her father's associate, "That may be an excellent suggestion so long as said therapist is female. I would feel more comfortable conversing with a woman about my apprehensions and reservations than I would a male, which considering my background is completely plausible."

John flopped backwards on the bed and threw one arm over his face with a groan, "Wonderful, geek-speak in stereo."

Ashlyn hid her grin with one hand as she asked, "I do hope that you'll give serious consideration to this suggestion from your colleague as it certainly has merit and demands exploration in its entirety."

Dropping his arm so he could see the girl, he growled, "Stop it, just stop it."

Unable to hold back the snickers bubbling out, she asked, "Why would I cease such wonderful torment? Certainly you should be proud to have a daughter as verbose as I, especially at so tender an age."

He reached over and lightly tickled her ribs, smiling when she giggled and squirmed away from him, "Proud is an expression that doesn't begin to cover what I feel for my child." The warmth in his eyes and the soft look he gave her proved the depth of his emotions already and she responded with smile, finding him far more comfortable and approachable when he was sprawled out teasing her than when he was on his feet and towering over her smaller frame.

With a faint nod of relief, Harold turned from the door, "I will begin breakfast, in that case, and the two of you may join me when you see fit to do so."

Reese sat up with a grin, "Hey, the only big word in that sentence was 'breakfast', Harold, you may be finally starting to mellow a bit."

"Doubtful, Mr. Reese," his voice floated back as he descended the steps, "I merely prefer to permit you the opportunity to actually comprehend what I'm saying once in a while."

"Sort of like a computer attempting to speak the languages of insects," John muttered. "Eventually, I hope to evolve enough to converse with other mammals."

His teenager laughed quietly, "He does seem to like teasing you, doesn't he? Does he really talk like that all the time?"

"More often than I care to contemplate, sweetheart, but we know each other well at this point in our lives. There are things that he knows about me no one else does, and I know things he would never want me to share about his life."

She reached out, a bit hesitantly, and placed one hand lightly on his arm, "And I respect the right to privacy both of you have. I won't ask either of you to share more than you're willing or comfortable to talk about."

Dark blue eyes met ice green, "I won't pressure you to talk about anything you're not okay discussing, Ashlyn, and I'm open to the idea of a therapist if you'd like to try one. There's a woman we helped a couple of months ago who actually specializes in working with families who've been through abuse or trauma."

Drawing her hand back, she maintained eye contact for once as she asked, "May I think about it for a little bit and give you an answer later?"

"Of course; it's completely your choice if you want to try this or not. Either way, I'll support you."

"Thank you," she whispered, unused to someone allowing her to have and make choices for her own life. This was going to take some getting used to.

"Breakfast is not going to eat itself so if you want something before it becomes a cold and congealed mess on the plate, I advise you both to put on an appearance!"

John laughed as he raised his voice in response, "Our presence is forthcoming, Mr. Finch; providing you haven't an issue with our current attire!"

"Just get down here!"

Catching hold of his daughter's hand, John bounced to his feet and tugged her along with him, maintaining his grip in case she had another episode of dizziness like she had the night before. She allowed him to clasp her hand without attempting to pull away and willingly followed him down the stairs to the kitchen for food.


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6

They spent a week in the seclusion of the house, with one man or the other leaving as needed for grocery items or clothing in John's case. By the end, Ashlyn was more comfortable than she'd thought she would be with them, but she suffered from nightmares and after several mornings of waking up screaming in her father's comforting embrace, she agreed to try the therapy route. Harold contacted the woman they'd helped a few months back and set up a meeting with her, in her private office at home, for the following week. She was more than happy to be of service after they had saved her life from her stalker of an ex-boyfriend and looked forward to being able to pay at least part of her debt.

The trio packed up early Sunday morning and drove back to their more familiar territory. Their first stop was the library where they did most of their work and where Finch lived most of the time. The teenager was ecstatic over the amount of high quality computer systems they boasted and John lost her to their allure for nearly an hour before he could coax her away.

They left Harold happily tapping away at his keyboard with the promise to return in time to pick him up for a dinner out and he just gave them a wave and secret smile. Ashlyn's injured face had healed enough she could hide the last of the bruising with makeup and John was taking her shopping for new clothes.

Once the bruising and swelling had dissipated, the two men had been nearly speechless at the stunning natural beauty of the girl and the fact that she seemed completely unaware of it. John could see much of her mother in her delicate features, though she had his ink black hair, but her ice green eyes were purely her own. She was finally beginning to fill out with some much needed weight and had spent much of her time at the initial safe house sitting outside in the garden with the men talking and soaking up the sun. Harold had even ventured to tease a bit that she was going to eat them out of house and home, such was her appetite.

Driving to a small clothing store that specialized in outfits for teenage girls and young ladies, John handed her over to the owner with instructions that Ashlyn was to purchase anything that took her fancy, providing it wasn't one of those hideous things (he actually pointed one out to her) that would make her look like a hooker or homeless person. He further told her to get everything she'd need for a complete wardrobe: shorts, pants, skirts, tops of all kinds, warm and cold weather appropriate, any necessary underwear, things to wear for bed, and three or four dresses. He would take her to another store later to pick up fancier dresses in case they were needed for some function or another as well as someplace to get some new shoes.

The store owner was over the moon in delight at having such a lovely young lady to dress from the skin out, and even happier when told that money was no object. She ordered John to make himself comfortable in a chair near the dressing rooms as she led the girl away, introducing herself as Mrs. Steiner. After spending a few minutes studying the teen and exclaiming over her unusual eyes and long black hair, she send her into one of the changing rooms to strip while she gathered a variety of clothes for her.

Sitting back in the chair and getting as comfortable as he could, John had a front row seat to his own personal fashion show as his daughter came out in different outfits and a rainbow of colors. At first, she seemed very stiff and anxious, but when he caught her eye and smirked, she settled down and began to enjoy herself. Ashlyn had never been clothing shopping; her mother was allowed to go out for brief forays to purchase what they needed, or they shopped online, so much of what she had didn't fit quite right and her father was determined to correct this.

When she had a huge selection of clothes to take home, John told her to pick something she liked and wear it out of the store. Everything else was bundled up neatly into big bags and deposited into the trunk and they were off to the shoe store where she bought a nice variety to go with her new outfits. At one point, just to see his reaction, she slipped around one aisle, grabbed a pair of black platform shoes with five inch heels and tottered back to him asking for an opinion on her choice. After catching her when she lost her balance, John roared with laughter, the first time she'd seen him truly laugh, setting his dark blue eyes dancing with pleasure at her joke.

By the time they were done with the shoe store, it was late enough in the afternoon that he decided to take her back to his loft (a gift to him from Finch some time ago) so they could unload. Surprised, they were greeted by a smiling Harold who was directing delivery men in the set up and positioning of a complete bedroom set for the girl in the room next to her father's office (his bedroom was the actual loft overhead itself). He'd even brought back bedding and pillows along with a TV/DVD player, a Wii gaming system, a nature sounds radio similar to the one from the other house (knowing how much she had enjoyed the one at the other house), and informed them that two brand new, state of the art computer systems were on their way, built to his specifications for her, so she could continue her schooling both at home and at their library/office.

The men sat down with the girl after the workmen left and told her that they had talked about her helping them with the numbers the machine gave them. The decision was that she could help, as long as she was never placed in any type of danger and followed their directions at all times. She agreed readily and promised to follow instructions given, then asked when she could get started learning about their self-appointed task.

"Tuesday will be soon enough, I believe," Finch replied. "The two of you can get settled in here tonight after dinner and tomorrow morning you have an appointment with the therapist."

She made a face but didn't protest, after all, she was the one who had agreed to see someone.

Leaning back in his chair, John inquired, "So, Harold, where are we going for dinner tonight and how fancy do we need to dress?"

"I made reservations for us at Le Palais Jardin for tonight at 5:30, so you'll need to dress somewhat above your usual style."

John glanced at the clock on the wall, "Well, if that's the case, I suppose we need to start getting ready and be thankful we picked up some nice dresses for you, Ashlyn."

The trio broke up to change into appropriate dinner attire, John to his loft bedroom, Harold (who had brought a fresh suit with him) took over the office, and Ashlyn retreated to her room and began pulling out the four dresses they had picked up that day. All would be suitable for the evening out, but she didn't know which to choose as she loved all of them. Finally, she just closed her eyes, spun in a circle, and grabbed one. When she opened her eyes, she found herself holding a pale green dress whose skirt fell just to the knee. The scooped neckline swept in delicate folds up to the shoulders and the elbow length fluttery sleeves were held closed at the top and bottom with thin strips of material so that her upper arms were mostly bare.

Quickly changing into the beautiful outfit, Ashlyn fastened the fragile-looking silver belt around her waist, loving the way the dainty loops hung from her frame and gleamed against the material. Sitting at the make up table Harold had purchased for her room, she checked to insure her faint bruises were covered and applied a bit of smoky gray shadow to her eyes. Plying the brush through her long hair, she wondered if she should try putting it up or leave it loose. She tried a couple of different styles before deciding to go simple: pulling back the sides and securing them at the back of her head with a plain silver clip while the rest hung free past her waist.

Grabbing the bags her shoes had been placed in, she set them on the bed and started digging through them for something to compliment the dress. She found what she was looking for in a pair of silver sandals with small one inch heels and straps that wrapped around her ankles. On the back of her bedroom door was a full length mirror and Ashlyn paused for a moment to study herself. She'd never had the opportunity to wear such a lovely outfit before and was surprised to find that she was a very pretty girl. The color of the dress and the blackness of her hair made her light green eyes all the more stunning and she found herself eager for the evening out if a little fearful of making mistakes.

Stepping back out into the living room, she realized she was the first one finished and moved to look out the huge windows as she waited. As John silently descended the steps behind her, he was amazed at the transformation. His daughter had been beautiful before, in his eyes, she was now breathtaking.

He'd be shooting boys right and left when she started going out into public.

The sound of the office door opening and Harold's uneven gait approaching drew the teen's attention and she turned to find her father standing at the base of the stairs watching her. Seeing the look of pride in his eyes, she blushed shyly even as she smiled over at him. Their week together had done some good in helping her with the fear of him she carried in her heart. When he was with her, John was quiet, gentle, tender, affectionate, and tried so very hard to move slowly so he didn't startle her. He was everything she'd always wanted in a father and more, handsome, well-spoken, educated, and determined to make sure she had every opportunity to continue her own education as far as she chose to take it. They had already started working on her newest language, Russian, and he'd been torn between pride at how her eidetic memory assisted her in learning so fast and aggravation at himself for not being as adept as she was.

"You look beautiful, sweetheart; I'm so glad you didn't say no to that particular dress," he complimented.

"Thank you," she responded softly as she made her way over to join the two men.

"May I add my own accolades to John's? I must say the two of you have excellent taste in your choices for this evening's dinner," Finch stated.

The tall military man was dressed in all black, from his suit to his silk shirt and tie to his black shoes while his associate was dressed in one of light brown with a white shirt underneath. John extended one arm to his daughter and she took it with minimal hesitation and allowed him to escort her out the door and down to Harold's large town car. He settled her in the backseat on his side while the computer genius climbed into the passenger's side front. Finch generally permitted his friend to take the wheel as it made things easier on his battered body and the defensively trained man was completely at ease behind the wheel of any vehicle it seemed.

Pulling up in front of the restaurant, two valets scurried over as quickly as they could, each opening a front door, but before the one on the driver's side could reach for the back, John was already opening it and offering a hand to assist his daughter out while his gaze automatically swept the area for threats. As she exited, every man in the vicinity paused to stare and she, fortunately, missed it as she was focused on her father's face. The man's features was set in harsh lines and his eyes were ice cold as he glowered around them, causing the men to quickly scurry away before incurring his wrath.

His fingers gripped hers lightly as he drew her from the depths of the car and close to his side. Lowering his head closer to her level, John murmured, "Perhaps I made a mistake in getting you that dress. I may have to start beating men away with a stick when they look at my lovely fifteen year old daughter the way these guys are. What do you think would happen if I pulled a gun on them?"

Picturing the big man yanking out a gun from his shoulder holster and aiming it at one of the men walking past them was enough to bring a peal of laughter from her lips. Which only caused more men to stop and ogle her.

John's hand actually started to disappear under his coat but it didn't get very far before Ashlyn was catching hold of it, "If you do that, we'll never get to have dinner and Harold will be very disappointed."

His hand slowly eased back out and he grumbled sarcastically, "Well, we can't have Harold disappointed now, can we?"

Giggling softly, she tugged on his hand to get him to follow her around the car to the walkway where Harold waited. When they reached him, the shorter man leaned close and hissed, "Did I actually see you about to draw _a weapon_, Mr. Reese?"

"No, Harold," he growled back, "you were about to see me draw _several weapons_."

Ashlyn nearly choked in an effort to hold back the laughter dancing in her eyes at the by-play between the two friends. Harold simply gave his associate a pointed look, which said associate returned in spades, before turning to the doors of the restaurant. They were opened immediately by a pair of young men in smart red and black uniforms who bowed elegantly to them as they entered. An older maître d' greeted them in soft French before switching to English, "Good evening, and welcome to Le Palais Jardin, The Garden Palace. My name is Charles, how may I serve you?"

"Reservations for Wren, party of three," the billionaire responded without batting an eye.

"Certainly, right this way, please." The man led the way through the spacious dining room with its hand-painted screens that offered some privacy to patrons to a quiet corner in the back near an emergency exit. The elegant booth had tall backs, padded to lean against at the bottom and beautiful wood scrollwork on top. The seat, also padded for comfort, was covered in deep blue heavy silk that matched the tablecloth set with crystal goblets and fine silverware. All around the room were beautiful flowers in full bloom and tanks of exquisite tropical fish.

With a light hand, John guided the girl into the corner so that he could sit beside her and be able to see the entire room at all times. He knew that when Finch made the reservations, he'd specifically requested this spot, knowing his partner's preference for being in a defensible position. He nodded at the other man and received a faint smile in return as Harold settled across from them.

Charles placed leather bound menus before the trio and set a wine list on the table top between the two men, "Renee will be with you momentarily, may I get you some water while you look over the menu?"

"Yes, please," Harold replied and the man slipped away to get a silver ewer of ice water and returned to pour.

As he finished, a somewhat plain middle aged woman arrived at their table with a gracious and genuine smile for all of them, "Bonjour and welcome to Le Palais Jardin, I am Renee and it will be my honor to serve you this evening."

Before Harold could respond, the dark haired man looked up with a smile, "Bonjour, Renee. I'm John, this is my brother-in-law Harold, and my daughter Ashlyn."

"A pleasure to meet all of you; are you here to celebrate anything special tonight or just looking for a wonderful dinner out you didn't have to cook?"

Harold chuckled at that, "I prefer to have those with culinary skills prepare my meals for me, thank you, and John's expertise extends to opening a can of something, slopping it into a paper plate, and exploding it in the microwave."

"It doesn't always explode, Harold."

"No, you're correct about that, John. It doesn't always explode; sometimes it catches the microwave on fire instead."

The teenager clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the giggles as the two men sniped back and forth while Renee chuckled quietly. She turned to the lovely child in the corner and asked kindly, "Do you have any questions about the menu or do you know what you would like to order?"

Picking her menu up, the girl asked, "What is 'lime-shiso broth'?"

"Ah, I think you would like that; it's part of the mint family and when mixed with a touch of lime, the taste is outstanding and the aroma heavenly."

Ashlyn smiled, "Thank you, in that case I think I would like to the scallops with pureed corn, snowpeas and shiitake mushrooms, and the lime-shiso broth."

"Would you care for a salad with that, or a plate of fresh fruit sliced with a yogurt sauce?"

The teen's eyes lit up, "The fruit, please, and…" her gaze skipped over the menu to the drinks and she smiled, "a large glass of chocolate milk." Her father gave her warm smile of approval for her choices, happy that she was eating more and more to put on some of the weight she desperately needed to gain to be healthy.

Renee jotted down notes on her ticket before turning to the men of the table, "And are you gentlemen ready to order as well?"

The computer whiz closed his menu and set it down in front of him, "I believe I would like to try the pistachio crusted rack of lamb with the grilled spiced eggplant, a small salad of fresh greens with vinegar and oil dressing, and some hot Earl Grey tea, please."

"Excellent, and for you, sir?"

"The grilled lobster, stuffed zucchini flower with sake-miso sauce, a bowl of mushroom soup in beef broth, and a Pepsi," John concluded.

"Just so you're aware, it isn't a lobster tail, it's the entire lobster," Renee informed him.

He smiled back, "Perfect. I haven't had a complete lobster in ages."

"Very good, then. Would you like to order any appetizers before your meal?"

Both men looked to the young lady at their table with raised brows and she ducked behind the menu. Renee smiled thinking that she was a delightful child who was obviously eager to please her parent and uncle. In reality, Ashlyn had no idea what to order for an appetizer and was afraid of displeasing one or the other male seated with her.

Sitting so close to her, John could see the anxiety in her eyes and leaned over to peer at the menu with her, one long finger moved to point at something, then another. She gave a soft sigh of relief and sat back up, "The sampler platter and fried calamari, please."

Their server gathered up the menus after finalizing her notes, "I'll get this order to the chef and be right back with your drinks. If you'd like to sample one of our fine wines, I can send over the sommelier for you?"

"No, thank you," Harold stated. "I rarely imbibe in alcohol, John is driving this evening, and Ashlyn is far too young."

"As you wish," Renee vanished to the kitchens to submit their requests and the group settled in to talk softly.


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7

It seemed to Ashlyn that every male on the restaurant's staff had made some kind of excuse to be able to walk near their table and stare in their direction. She was beginning to wonder if they were daring one another to see who could get closest without rousing the dangerous beast seated next to her. John was aware of each and every person who came within twenty feet of their table and also knew it was because they were trying to sneak a peek at the very young beauty he was with.

He finally had enough when bold young man grabbed the silver ewer of water and started to approach them, holding the excuse to do so in his hands. However, none of them had actually taken a drink as yet, so it was an obvious ploy that only served to irritate the big man.

"I'll be right back," he stated in a low growl. As he shifted to rise, he let one hand lightly caress the girl's long hair with a reassuring smile. He gained his feet and straightened up to his full height, stepping in front of the advancing busboy that had to look way up to make eye contact. The poor kid only had a moment to register he'd been not only busted but was possibly about to lose his life when John latched onto his shoulder, removed the pitcher from his hands to set on the empty table next to them, pivoted him around, and directed him to a door marked 'employees only'.

Four people looked up as they entered, including a woman in her mid-fifties who was seated at a desk looking fearful and a man a little older dressed in a chef's coat who stood behind her. The other two men were wearing long coats that obviously were meant to hide the guns they were toting and failing miserably.

John rolled his eyes, '_Seriously? I try to go out for a nice dinner with my daughter and end up in the middle of a robbery? Only me.'_

One of the gunmen stepped towards the two newcomers aggressively, "This is a private conversation in an employees only room, since you can't read the big sign on the door. You need to get right back out before you find yourself in more trouble than you can handle, buddy."

Turning the boy he still had a grip on, he ordered in a very dark voice, "Go stand in that corner," he pointed, "and don't move. Understand?" When the terrified kid nodded like a bobble-head doll, he gave him a light push in the direction he wanted him to go and turned to look daggers at the bad guys, "Bring it on."

The second man, thinking he might have an advantage, rushed John with a wild swing that he easily ducked under and brought his own elbow up into the man's jaw. The guy hadn't even hit the ground, out cold, before the military man removed the gun from the first one's hand and knocked him flying into the wall, also unconscious. Pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket, John silently wiped his prints off the gun before tossing it to the floor beside the person he'd taken it from.

"Call the police, tell them these two guys tried to rob you, got into a fight over the money, and knocked each other out. End of story."

The woman rose on shaky legs and whispered, "I can't thank you enough for what you did. If you hadn't come in when you did, they would have robbed us blind; how did you know?"

He shook his head, "I didn't." Turning back to the now petrified busboy he beckoned him with a crook of a finger, "You. Here. Now."

The teen was reduced to a blubbering mess as he huddled in the corner, frantically shaking his head and babbling apologies. John just sighed in annoyance.

"I'm Michael Lebeau, sir, the chef and co-owner with my wife, Elaine," the older man nodded to the lady with him. "She's right, there's nothing we can do to thank you for coming to our rescue, but what's wrong with Daniel there and what brought you in here to begin with?"

Facing the couple the big man explained, "I came here tonight with my family to have a nice quiet dinner out and in less than ten minutes after being seated, we suddenly had a parade of busboys and waiters past our table. We purposely wanted a table in the corner so we wouldn't be disturbed by others and they had no reason to be there." Burning eyes flashed back to Daniel, "I won't have the male contingent of your staff staring at my fifteen year old daughter and making her uncomfortable."

"My goodness! I am so sorry for that, sir, I don't know what came over our staff but you can be sure that we will not only make sure that you're not disturbed during your meal, but your dinner will be free of charge for everything you've done this evening," Elaine Lebeau assured quickly.

"That won't be necessary," John stated, "I only want to enjoy a meal with my family in peace."

"And you shall receive it," the chef promised. "I myself will prepare your food and serve your table. It's the very least we can do for your help."

John shrugged, "If it makes you happy, just as long as the others stay away, but we want Renee to stay as our server, too. She's been very good to us since we came in."

"Certainly," Michael agreed before excusing himself to hurry to the kitchen so he could take over the meal preparation.

Ashlyn and Harold were talking softy about the machine when the girl spotted her father returning, with an escort. When she straightened abruptly, the billionaire turned his body to face that direction and raised an eye brow in question before maneuvering around so he could stand up to greet the lady.

"Elaine Lebeau, owner of Le Palais Jardin, this is my brother-in-law Harold Wren, and my daughter Ashlyn," John introduced.

"Madame Lebeau, a pleasure to meet you," Finch shook her hand politely while casting curious glances at his associate who was in the process of joining the teenager in the booth.

"The pleasure is mine, I assure you, sir. Your brother-in-law was kind enough to help my husband and I out with a small problem in the office a moment ago and I wanted to take the opportunity to meet his family. Please, order anything you wish from the menu, even to take home for later, and it's yours with our thanks." She studied the girl seated beside their savior, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the candles that lit the booth and smiled, "I can see why you've caused such a stir among my staff and I apologize if they've made you uncomfortable, child. It won't happen again."

Ashlyn looked to her father in confusion and he just nodded to the woman, "Thank you."

Catching a movement out of the corner of her eye, Elaine turned to see Renee approaching with a tray of drinks, "I will leave you in Renee's capable hands and if you need anything, please have her come get one of us." She then hurried to the door to meet the police officers who were just coming through them.

The middle aged woman began placing their drinks before each person, "Here you are; is there anything else I can get for you while we wait for your appetizers?"

John shook his head while his friend reseated himself, "We're fine for now, thank you." She nodded and slipped away.

"So, John, what 'small problem' did you vanquish for the owners of the restaurant that resulted in our meal being taken care of?" Harold inquired.

He stretched one arm out over the back of the booth behind the teenager as he smiled down at her reassuringly, "A couple of idiots came in trying to rob the place and I pointed out their stupidity for them."

"Dare I ask with what?"

He met his partner's gaze and shrugged negligibly, "My elbow and the butt of one of their guns." He could feel the girl next to him stirring slightly and was shocked when she gradually eased into his side, head coming to rest lightly against his shoulder as she looked up at him.

"Did they hurt you?" she whispered.

The arm behind her dropped slowly to wrap around her slender form as he lowered his head to press a tender kiss to her forehead, "Of course not, sweetheart. Those two buffoons didn't know what hit them."

She nodded and stayed nestled up to him, much to his delighted pleasure, until their appetizers arrived; and even then she stayed fairly close. Michael the chef arrived at their table with Renee and, after she handed out small plates, he served each person himself: fresh fried calamari, steamed mussels, barbequed shrimp, stuffed mushrooms, crab stuffed artichoke hearts, and steak tartar.

Having eaten such foods regularly over the years, Finch knew what to expect and enjoyed everything placed before him. His tablemates had slightly different view points, however. Ashlyn loved the calamari that melted in her mouth, the stuffed mushrooms, and shrimp, but she took only a bit of the steak tartar, mussels, and artichokes before discretely nudging them to the side of her plate. John wasted no time in spearing them from hers to add to his but he also replaced what he took with his own helping of calamari and shrimp.

Almost as soon as they had finished the appetizers, Michael and Renee appeared again; she whisked their empties away while he handed out Ashlyn's fruit and yogurt, Harold's greens, and John's soup. When the girl's curiosity and keen sense of smell had her sniffing a bit in the direction of the soup, her father lifted a spoonful, blew a bit to cool it, and offered it to her to taste. Unsure at first, because something like this was certainly never allowed at the table growing up, she gradually edged closer and took a sip. When her eyes brightened at the deliciousness, he made a mental note to order a large bowl to take home with them.

When the chef appeared once more, this time with the main courses almost overflowing the plates where he'd given them far more than they would normally have received, Harold requested some smaller plates so they could share a bit of each meal with one another. They were quickly provided and Michael whipped out a sharp knife to carve a couple of small pieces of lamb from Finch's plate to set out before using a spoon to scoop out a couple of Ashlyn's scallops for each small plate. He then demonstrated his expertise with lobster by breaking John's whole one down in record time and placing portions aside for the others. Small bits of side items were put on the plates and then handed out so the group to try a little of everything.

The teenager ate far more than she should have, even knowing she'd regret it later, but it was all so delicious she just couldn't resist. The former military man also crammed in a couple of more bites than normal before regretfully asking if they could have some boxes to take extras home in. He also asked Renee if she would add a large order for the soup so they could eat it the next day for lunch.

When she returned with boxes for them to pack things up in, she also set what looked like a covered bucket on the table and announced it was their soup. Harold stared at it for a moment before asking, "And will you be feeding the rest of the block at lunch tomorrow with that, John?"

"No, Harold, we expect you to join us after our appointment so we can all eat ourselves into happy oblivion."

Renee grinned at the two men as she set a large bag on the table as well, "Chef Michael decided to send you home with several desserts to enjoy as well. There's chocolate bread pudding with chocolate sauce and fresh berries. Vanilla bean Crème Brûlèe, also with fresh berries and homemade whipped cream. And a banana cream pie with caramel sauce, whipped cream and chocolate shavings."

Ice green eyes wide at the dessert list, Ashlyn whispered, "Oh, I'm going to be so sick."

Her father chuckled at her, "You and me both, sweetheart; but we'll enjoy it while we can." He looked across the table, "Now you definitely will have to join us tomorrow, Harold, because I'm going to hold the desserts hostage until you do."

"Very well, John, I certainly cannot allow you to deprive your only child of sugary sustenance so I will make an appearance at your place tomorrow afternoon."

"Excellent, Harold, I knew you'd see it my way," John teased.

The other man snorted at him while Ashlyn studied the bags and murmured, "Death by sugar."

A strong arm wrapped lightly around her again, "Yeah, but what a way to go."


	8. Chapter 8

Part 8

Author's note: the song in this chapter is "Forgiven" by Within Temptation. Not mine, sadly enough.

When they got home after dinner, John and Harold changed clothes and settled themselves in the office next to Ashlyn's new bedroom to talk while she went in, changed into something better suited to an evening in, and began unpacking all the new clothes and shoes. She had plenty of space in the big closet, dresser, and chest of drawers her "uncle" had provided so she made use of it. Shortly after she'd started, she decided to make use of the IPod port that was part of the radio, softly so it didn't disturb the men in the other room, but she wanted some music.

Her mother had gotten her a few CDs and an IPod before she died and Ashlyn had made sure to keep them carefully hidden from her step-father, but she'd been assured by John that she could play whatever she wanted and he would buy her more over the next couple of weeks. Plugging the small gadget in and turning everything on, she took a deep breath and let it out as her music began, soothing her with the various melodies she'd loaded into the playlist. After several songs, the sound of a piano playing a haunting tune started; one of her absolute favorites, and she began to softly sing along.

_Couldn't save you from the start_

_Loved you so it hurts my soul_

_Can you forgive me for trying again?_

_Your silence makes me hold my breath_

_Oh, time has passed you by_

_Ooo, for so long I've tried to shield you from the world_

_Ooo, you couldn't face the freedom on your own_

_Here I am, left in silence_

The men had heard the music playing quietly in the background and smiled at each other, pleased she was comfortable enough with them to use it while all three were in the home. When one song faded and another started, John's voice fell silent as his daughter's lifted softly.

_You gave up the fight_

_You left me behind_

_All that's done's forgiven_

_You'll always be mine_

_I know deep inside_

_All that's done's forgiven_

Realizing he'd lost the other man, Harold focused on the music playing in the other room and it dawned on him how perfectly the song fit his friend's life with Jessica as well as Ashlyn's loss of her mother.

_I watched the clouds drifting away_

_Still the sun can't warm my face_

_I knew it was destined to go wrong_

_You were looking for the great escape_

_To chase your demons away_

_Ooo, for so long I've tried to shield you from the world_

_Ooo, you couldn't face the freedom on your own_

_Here I am, left in silence_

_You gave up the fight_

_You left me behind_

_All that's done's forgiven_

_You'll always be mine_

_I know deep inside_

_All that's done's forgiven_

Rising, John abandoned the office to stand in the doorway of his daughter's room, watching her in silence as she folded clothing with her back to the entrance. Unaware that she was being observed and how her voice gained more power as the lyrics swept over her, Ashlyn paused in her occupation, closing her eyes as the song took over.

_I've been so lost since you've gone_

_Why not me before you? _

_Why did fate deceive me?_

_Everything turned out so wrong_

_Why did you leave me in silence?_

_You gave up the fight_

_You left me behind_

_All that's done's forgiven_

_You'll always be mine_

_I know deep inside_

_All that's done's forgiven_

The music gradually grew softer as the piano played the final measures. Father and daughter each sighed deeply as they were released from the spell of the song.

Ashlyn picked up the shorts she'd just folded and turned to put them in the chest when she saw the big man standing in the door to her room watching her, tears slipping down his handsome face. The clothing fell to the floor, unnoticed by either of them, and myriad emotions flickered across her face as she stared at him. Fear that he was angry at her for disturbing him, anguish that he'd overheard her singing such a poignant song, and sorrow for the grief she saw laid bare in his dark blue eyes.

Hesitantly, unsure of his thoughts and reactions, the teenager crept across her room towards him. He let her come, unmoving as a mountain, until she was only a couple of steps away, and then he opened his arms to her. Ashlyn stepped into them, for once without a hint of fear in her heart; her only thought at that moment was to offer him consolation for his heartache. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she felt one strong arm fold across her back while his free hand came up to cradle her head to his chest.

John stroked his hand over the girl's loose black hair as he rested his cheek on the crown of her head, tears continuing to fall as he closed his eyes. Something about that song, being sung by his only child, brought all the pain out and forced him to examine it closely; and in the study, he felt it start to ease. Just a little, but it didn't seem quite as sharp and stabbing as it had just a week ago.

A warm hand lightly gripped his shoulder and released to pat a couple of times when he nodded acknowledgement. Harold's way of expressing his sympathy before he made his halting way out the door and to his car for the return trip to the library. He'd be back the next afternoon to check on them and have lunch, but for now he left them to bond over a shared loss.

He was surprised in part by how at ease Ashlyn was in his embrace; it was as if she'd lost all fear of him, though he didn't hold out much hope of that. More than likely, her deep innate sense of compassion drew her to want to help him with his overwhelming distress. She was so like her mother in that respect.

He gradually loosened his hold on her, thankful she'd allowed the prolonged embrace, and she lifted her head to look up at him, green eyes brimming with her own tears of loss and empathy. He brought one hand up to lightly cup her cheek as his thumb brushed away the moisture and he smiled lovingly.

"I don't know who recorded that particular song, but I'd like to send them a thank you card for it," his voice rougher than normal and still just as soft.

"A band called Within Temptation. Kind of weird for them to have a song like that when much of what they sing is considered gothic metal or synthetic rock."

"If you like them, I'll buy you every CD they've ever made and take you to a concert of your choice," he vowed.

She gave a weak laugh, "That might be difficult since they generally only tour in Europe."

"Then find out where they're playing, pick a place, and we'll fly to Europe to hear them."

Ashlyn smiled up at him, "You're determined to spoil me, aren't you?"

"Completely rotten, anything and everything your heart desires. I have a lot of years to make up for."

She shook her head, "I don't need, or want, you to try to make up for the time we've missed."

John looked deeply into her eyes as his hands moved to rest lightly on her shoulders, "What do you want, or need, from me, Ashlyn? Honestly?"

She met his gaze squarely and without flinching for once, "I need you to be my father. I want you to be there for me from now on, to protect me when I need it, to let me make mistakes so I can learn and grow, to teach me what I need to know…and I need you to…to…to love me. My mother was the only person in my entire life who loved me and I lost her. I want to be your daughter and have the chance to love you, too."

He pulled her back into his arms and she rested her ear over his heart, listening to the strong, steady, reassuring beat, "I do love you, Ashlyn, and more than anything, I want to connect to my daughter and be your father. I know we have a rough road ahead of us, but we'll get through it together. Deal?"

"Deal," she whispered tightening her arms around his waist.

The next morning, John was up early as usual, pulled on his jogging clothes, left a note for his still sleeping offspring, and bounced out the door. He ran several miles, relishing in the stretching of strong muscles as he set a smooth pace, until he worked his way back to his neighborhood. He stopped in a small shop and picked up coffee for himself, hot chocolate for Ashlyn, and breakfast for both to carry home. He heard the shower shut off as he closed the door and called out to the girl so she would know he was back and not be startled.

A few minutes later, she appeared in the dining area where he was setting things out, "Good morning."

"Good morning, sweetheart, how did you sleep last night?"

"Not bad," she told him honestly. "I only remember having one nightmare, but it wasn't a really bad one."

He handed over her cup, "You know if you need me, I'll come down, right?"

She nodded as she sniffed her chocolate eagerly, "I know, and I'll try to call if I need you; it's just kind of hard to get used to."

"I know."

They ate breakfast together, looking out the windows and commenting on people that passed by below. John took the opportunity to point out particular things he noticed about certain individuals: the way one woman hugged her purse to her chest as she walked (she'd been a victim of a purse-snatcher and feared it happening again despite John returning the purse to her and handing the perpetrator over to Fusco), the young man on the corner who pretended to be selling newspapers when he was actually selling crack (John would be removing him from the area shortly), the two kids playing the park across the way (should have been in school and kept an eye out for parents and police), and the food vendor who did slow but steady business throughout the day and had a hidden cash compartment built into the side of the cart he slipped money into on a regular basis (he'd been robbed by a guy a couple of months ago and after John had returned the money to him he'd also assisted him in putting the stash in place). He wanted the girl to be aware of the pulse of the neighborhood and what to watch for if she were to go out on her own.

"So how many bad guys have you removed from around here in the last couple of months?"

"Not nearly as many as I did when I first moved in," he smirked. "We only have a problem once or twice a month anymore."

She laughed, "Gee, I wonder why that could be?"

"I think they just decide to move onto greener, and easier, pastures. Hard to make a living on the suffering of others when you're the one being made to suffer."

Ashlyn just shook her head, "I'm just glad you're not only willing to do things like that for others, but obviously very able."

He rose to throw trash away, "Hopefully you won't have to see me in action any time soon; I want you to get over your fear of me, not make it worse."

Ducking her head slightly in acknowledgment of that fact, she quietly said, "I hope that won't be an issue too much longer."

Coming over to her and pressing a soft kiss on her bowed head, John pulled the towel she'd wrapped around her hair free, "Did you leave any hot water for me?"

Insulted, her eyes flashed up to meet his, "Since there are two water heaters, of course I did! I don't use that much anyway when I shower!"

Grinning, he danced away from her and lightly snapped the end of the towel at her so it let out a crack. Green eyes narrowed as she slipped from her seat and began maneuvering around the room trying to avoid getting tagged by the towel and at the same time attempting to get a grip on it. John stealthily stalked her, never getting too close, always making sure the towel never actually made contact with her, but he was very deft at making it crack loudly. Ashlyn got behind one of the chairs and feinted to the left so that when John tried to snap it on her right, she was able to grab it without warning.

Surprised that she'd managed to trick him, John lost his hold and his triumphant teenager turned the tables on him and chased him around with it until she had herded him to the base of the stairs. Once there, she gave the towel one last quick snap and started laughing, "Now you can get up there and take a shower."

He tried to look severe and failed because he was so relieved she'd enjoyed their game, "Are you implying that I stink, young lady?"

"Nope," she responded as she headed for her room to change for the day, "I'm _telling _you that you stink!"

John laughed all the way up the steps and into his bathroom at her growing audacity.

Opening the passenger's side car door, John held out his hand to the girl and smiled when she latched onto it like a lifeline, "It's going to be alright, you know. Dr. Patti is a nice person, easy to talk to, and someone I think you'll like."

The door to the large ranch-style home opened and a thirty something year old woman stepped out onto the porch to greet them, "Good morning and welcome."

"Morning, Dr. Patti. Thank you for agreeing to help us out. This is my daughter, Ashlyn; sweetheart, this is Dr. Patti Saulson."

Hesitantly, the teen offered the hand that wasn't wrapped around her father's like a boa constrictor, "Pleased to meet you, Dr. Saulson."

The woman gently shook her hand, "Dr. Patti is fine, Ashlyn, and it's so nice to meet you, too." Her look encompassed both of them as she gestured to the open door, "Please, come in and make yourselves comfortable; would you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you," Ashlyn was afraid if she drank something it might make a reappearance once it hit her nervous stomach. John just shook his head.

The doctor led them to her private office and closed the door even though they were the only ones in the house. It tended to make her patients more comfortable when the door was shut because it meant no one could stand in the hallway and overhear if another person came in. She motioned for them to take whatever seat they preferred as she lowered her slightly heavy set frame to her favorite chair. John sat at one end of the couch facing her and his daughter huddled into his side.

Patti asked them to explain the circumstances that had brought them to her and listened attentively as the military man walked her through it. As her father talked, Ashlyn studied the other female from under her thick lashes. The woman was about thirty pounds overweight, but she seemed comfortable in her own skin. Her light brown hair just brushed her shoulders and her kindly eyes were blue/grey in color. Her voice was soothing when she spoke and she tended to avoid the use of clinical terms with her patients so they could follow what she said easier.

"So," the doctor started when John concluded the story, "it sounds like you've had a very rough go of things growing up, Ashlyn, and for that I'm so very sorry. I was abused as a child by my father and was terrified of men for years, almost to the point of not being able to be in the same room with one without another woman present."

This caught the girl's attention and she sat up more to look directly at the woman, "Really? What did you do? How did you get over it?"

"Practice, patience, confidence, and understanding. I found a psychiatrist who worked intensively with me until I was able to work my way past the trauma and become the person I am today."

"And now you help others with their fears?"

"Yes, I found such peace after my sessions with my own doctor that I followed in her footsteps so I could help others find the same tranquility."

Hesitantly, the youngster asked, "Do you think you can help me?"

A soft laugh broke free from Patti, "Oh, child, you are not nearly as far gone as you think you are. I don't believe that you will need a lot of sessions with me before you're ready to go on your own."

"Really?" came the incredulous response. "Why do you think that?"

She leaned forward slightly, "John said that you had been abused by your step-father and an uncle, and now that you have him in your life, you're terrified of him due to his size and strength, right?" Ashlyn nodded. "Do you realize that from the moment you got out of the car, you haven't let go of his hand? And when he sat down, you planted yourself right next to him. He may intimidate you at times and you may actually fear him in some aspects, but you're already attached and see him as your protector."

Looking down at her hands, she realized Patti was right; she was still clinging to him like a barnacle and had sat right beside him on the couch. Her instincts told her that he wouldn't let anything happen to her while they were in the doctor's house and she trusted him to take care of her. Maybe she wasn't as damaged as she had believed. She lifted her eyes to meet the dark blue gaze of the big man next to her and found him smiling at her with love and tenderness.

She returned his smile and rested the side of her head against his shoulder as she faced the doctor again, "So where do we start?"

Patti gave her a bright grin, "Let me ask you a question: how would you feel if I asked John to step out into the hall for about fifteen minutes while you and I talk one on one?"

Ashlyn's breathing suspended for a minute before she slowly straightened up and released his hand, "I can do that."

The dark haired man studied her face before he eased to his feet, "Good girl, sweetheart; I'll be out in the hallway." As he closed the door behind him, he made eye contact with his daughter and winked.

Another smile quirked the teen's lips at the wink before she rested her hands in her lap and faced the doctor, ready for the next step, "What would you like to know?"

The woman was nodding at her, "Your actions just spoke volumes, child. I can see that despite the fact he can be scary to you, he's already stepped past the role every other man in your life has held. They were the ones who were frightening because of their actions or their words. John, on the other hand, looks daunting, but I'll bet he's treated you with nothing but gentleness and love in the week you've been with him."

"You'd win that bet. He's been…well, everything I always wanted in a dad; someone who could scare the monsters away with a look while holding me close and safe. I know that he's a one man killing machine and that anyone who tried to hurt me would end up in serious pain if they ever woke up from the coma he'd put the in, and that's if they survived once he got a hold of them. But he's also promised never to lie to me; he said that he'd teach me self-defense and how to handle weapons." Ashlyn looked down as her hands when the tears welled up, "And he knew my mom. He talks about her sometimes to me, things about their time together." A hiccupping sob broke through, "I can tell that it hurts him so much to even bring her up, but he does it anyway because he wants me to know about her when she was younger."

Patti handed the teen a box of tissue, "John is a remarkable man, Ashlyn, and he's determined that you know everything he can tell you about your mom so you have a more complete picture of her."

"But I can see how much he hurts and I don't know how to comfort him!" the girl wailed.

The doctor tensed, anticipating an enraged grizzly bear coming through the door in defense of his child and was surprised when he didn't. "Ashlyn, you're the child and he's the parent. It's his job to take care of you, not the other way around. Didn't your mother take care of you, put band aids on scrapes, bring you soup when you were sick, teach you about life and growing up?"

Long black hair tumbled around the teen's face as she shook her head, "Mom was too busy trying to keep her husband from beating the crap out of either of us to the point she took the brunt of things. I was handed over to teachers for schooling or sent to my room to keep me away from him as much as possible. When she could, mom would talk to me about things, but mostly it was trying to make sure I kept my head down. I was the one who tried to take care of her when he hurt her." The tears flowed heavily as she recounted to the doctor her mother's final morning before being murdered and how she'd dressed Jessica's arm and used cool compresses to help with the bruising.

"I'm so sorry that you had to face that, Ashlyn; no child should have to witness the things you did or live in fear that they might be next." Her voice firmed, "But things are going to be different now. Your father has found you and I can already see that he's determined to take care of you come hell or high water. He already adores you and will do everything in his considerable power to make sure you're safe, but you are going to have to learn to talk to him about your wants and needs so he doesn't make decisions for you. John is a 'take-charge' type of personality and if you don't make him stop once in a while to listen to what you have to say, you'll never get over your fear of him and you'll never be your own person. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes, but how do I do that when I'm afraid if I make him mad he might hit me?"

"And there we have the crux of the problem with you fear. Your step-father used to hit you, correct?" Ashlyn nodded. "But he was a lot smaller than John, wasn't he?"

"Yes, he was about five foot ten and a hundred and fifty pounds."

"Where as John is easily six foot two and about thirty pounds heavier."

"Yes."

"So because John is so much bigger, he works out regularly, he's been in the military, he's been trained to kill in a large number of ways, and he can be terrifying as hell when he wants to be, he can do a lot more damage to you if he decides to blow a gasket."

She began shredding a tissue as she whispered, "Yes."

"Now, do you truly believe in your heart, not what your brain may be saying, but your heart, that he would ever do you any type of harm, physical, mental, emotional?"

"No."

"You didn't hesitate there at all," Patti commented.

Ashlyn nodded, still making confetti, "My heart says to trust him because he would never hurt me in any way."

"And you're having problems listening to only your heart." The teen nodded again. "Without stopping to think about what my question means, I want you to just answer it with whatever comes out when I ask." Another nod as the girl looked up curiously. "The thing I fear most about my father is…?"

"He's going to leave me like mom did." Green eyes went wide with horror as the truth of that statement penetrated. She didn't truly fear John for his size and power, she feared him because she was convinced he would eventually leave her like Jessica had. "Oh, my god."

"There's our breakthrough. I want you to think about that for a few minutes while I go out to the hall and talk to your father, okay?" The young woman nodded mutely as she stared into space.


	9. Chapter 9

Part 9

John looked up from where he was slouched in a seat across from the door when Patti came through it, "I hope you know what you put me through telling me to leave the room and then hearing my daughter wail."

"I do know, John, and thank you for not bursting in, I know you wanted to." He gave a low growl, bringing a smile to her lips, "I think you'll be a little happier when I tell you that we made a huge advancement in just that short period of time."

"Really?" He sat up sharply, "What happened?"

"Walk with me to the kitchen so I can grab a bottle of water, please." He willingly rose and followed her to the other end of the hall. "I asked her to answer a question without stopping to think about it. I asked 'the thing I fear most about my father is' and with no hesitation she answered 'he's going to leave me like mom did'. She's not actually afraid of you, John, she afraid she's going to be abandoned."

In the other room, Ashlyn rose to pace the office restlessly. She'd somehow managed to convince herself that she was afraid of the man in the hall because he might physically hurt her when she was actually petrified that he was going to leave. She couldn't bear the thought of having found her father only to have him turn his back on her and walk away. He mother had promised that he wouldn't do something like that if they ever met, and John himself had promised he would never leave but doubt still lingered in her mind.

Standing at the window, staring out a the garden, she let her mind drift back to when she was younger and her mom was trying to comfort her after a bad run-in with her step-father.

"_Why does he hate me, mom?"_

"_He doesn't hate you, baby, he hates what you represent."_

"_What's that?"_

_Jessica wiped a cool cloth over her daughter's bruised cheek, "I never got pregnant again after you and he wanted a child of his own. You're the physical embodiment of my love for another man and he feels that it's a slap in the face that John could get me pregnant, but he can't."_

"_If you loved my real father, why didn't you stay with him? Why did you marry someone else?"_

"_John and I couldn't get married, honey, and I needed someone to help me take care of you. I didn't know he would hurt both of us like he has and for that I'm sorry. Your father would have sooner cut out his own heart than physically lay a hand on one of us in anger." _

There is was; an assurance from her own mother than John wouldn't strike out at her. Another memory surged forward.

_Jessica sat in the bed with her daughter, humming softly to sooth her after a bad dream. Her husband was out of town for the night and she had taken complete advantage of his absence to spend as much time as she could with the child since when he was home she had to be at his beck and call. She could also talk freely without fear of him overhearing her words._

"_Mom?"_

"_Hmmm?"_

"_Why did my real father abandon us?"_

_She pulled the little girl closer for a hug, "He didn't abandon us, baby; he had to serve our country and I didn't tell him about you when I should have."_

_Disbelieving ice green eyes peered up at her from the nest of covers, "You mean you never told him about me?"_

"_No, honey, I didn't. I should have, but hindsight's always 20/20. If he'd known I was pregnant with you, John would never have left me and that would have gotten him into a lot of trouble with the military."_

"_Do you think he would have been happy with a girl instead of a boy?"_

_Jessica laughed softly, "He would have been so in love with you, baby. John was always good with kids whenever we were around any. He was so gentle and careful with them; like he was afraid they might break. You would have had him wrapped around your little finger before you even came home from the hospital."_

"_I wish I could have known him."_

"_Me, too. Some day he'll find me again, or I'll find him, and I'll tell him about this beautiful little bundle of joy he blessed me with. And when that day comes, he will move heaven and earth to keep you."_

"_Because I'm his responsibility?" If he was that into the military he would have a strong sense of duty._

"_No, sweet baby, because he's going to fall in love with his gorgeous and intelligent daughter and he would never abandon you once he knows you're his."_

And again, from her mother's own lips, an assurance that John wouldn't have abandoned her if he'd known about her existence. That he would love her and care for her. The man had told her several times that he already loved her and he had done everything in his power so far to reassure and take care of her. He'd even agreed to not only take her to see a therapist but to join her sessions as much as she wanted or needed him to. Surely that wasn't something a man like him would have been comfortable doing on his own! He was doing it _for her. Because he loved her and wanted her to feel safe with him._

And she did feel safe with him. Now that she let herself actually think beyond the fear her body had imposed of being abused, Ashlyn realized he represented safety, shelter in a stormy world. This was a man who would stand by her at all times, and not because she was a duty he had to take responsibility for. He had agreed to let her help him and Harold with the machine, as long as she was kept in a position of safety at all times. He wanted to take her to a concert to see one of her favorite bands because the music had spoken to both of them and he felt it was important to her.

Did she love John Reese?

No, she didn't, because John Reese didn't actually exist. She really did need to sit him down and ask him his real name; somehow it just hadn't seemed important in the grand scheme of things this past week.

So that changed the nature of the question. Did she love her _father_?

Watching the woman pull out a bottle of water, he shook his head at one she offered him, "I would never abandon her. If I'd known Jessica was pregnant, I would have left the military to take care of both of them, and I never would have gotten involved with the CIA. Of course that also means I never would have been here when you needed someone to help you."

Patti smiled at him, "And I very much appreciate the help you and your friend gave me. I'm a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, John, and there was a purpose to you not knowing about Ashlyn until now. I don't know why, but I think, now that you've found each other, you will enjoy a much more fulfilling and loving relationship with her than if you'd had a hand in raising her."

Leaning against the counter, he opened his mouth, about to respond to the doctor's comments, when his sensitive hearing picked up a sound from the office. He was already moving when the door was yanked open and the teenager came out into the hall.

She'd expected him to be sitting right there with the doctor, waiting to be allowed back in, but the hallway was empty and she panicked.

"Dad? Where are you? Dad?!" Her mind barely registered she wasn't using his given name, she wanted and needed her father and that's who she was calling frantically for.

John entered the hall swiftly, "Here, Ashlyn, I'm right here, sweetheart, I didn't leave."

She bolted down the hall and crashed into his outstretched arms sobbing piteously as she clung to his strong form. The big man wrapped both arms around her tightly and whispered soothingly into her long hair as he sought to calm her fears.

Dr. Patti shoved a chair over to the doorway and carefully guided John into it as he drew the child across his legs and pulled her even closer to his chest. Slipping out of the kitchen to the small bathroom beyond it, the doctor retrieved a soft washcloth and wet it with some cool water before bringing it back out to the pair. The girl's cries had diminished to the deep breaths her father was encouraging her to take. He had his forehead pressed against hers so that he could hold her eyes and talk her through what was upsetting her. Patti smiled knowingly. He may not have been there all her life, but John Reese was a natural when it came to being a father.

When she slid the damp cloth into one of his hands, John used it to wipe the young woman's face without breaking contact with her. Once he was done, he handed it blindly back and pulled Ashlyn back against his chest, tucking her head under his chin as he slowly rocked her back and forth. When her breathing became slower and even, he eased his hold so she could move with more freedom.

Turning slightly in his grasp so she could place her hands on his shoulders and look directly into his blue eyes, Ashlyn whispered, "I love you, dad, I really, really do."

It was his turn to become emotional though he was able to prevent the tears from actually falling, "I love you, too, baby, so very much."

Next to them, Patti sniffed as she daubed her eyes with a napkin, "I love my job!"

Emotionally wrung out, the pair returned to the loft and collapsed on the sofa together. Dr. Patti's prescription was a twice weekly visit to her office for both of them to start and for them to spend leisure time together doing some fun things at least once a week as well. This would give them a chance to talk more, get to know each other in this new relationship, and develop the family bond.

Glancing over at the kid, John also checked his watch and realized they had about two hours before Harold was due for lunch. He pulled a pillow from under his arm and set it on his legs, then reached over to cup one large hand around the nape of the teen's neck and guided her sideways to put her head down. She allowed it, but looked up at him questioningly, even as she kicked off her shoes and drew her feet up onto the couch.

"We have some time before our lunch guest arrives and I think we could both do with a nap after this morning." He stroked the back of his fingers over one petal soft cheek and smiled, "I don't really want you out of my sight just yet, if you'll indulge me."

Ashlyn yawned and snuggled her head down into a more comfortable position, "I don't mind, I'd prefer to stay right here with you." One more yawn and the child slipped easily into a restful slumber, secure in her father's presence.

John set his cell phone to vibrate and set an alarm to go off in one hour and forty five minutes before placing it in his pants pocket. Shifting down slightly so he rested more deeply in the couch, he rested one hand on Ashlyn's waist and dozed off.

When Harold arrived an hour and forty minutes later, he couldn't help the smile that spread over his face at the sight of the sleeping pair. At some point in time, John had shifted position so that he had his own legs up on the couch and Ashlyn was basically draped across his chest, her head resting under his chin as the man placed her protectively between the back of the couch and his own broad form. She had one hand entwined in her father's shirt as if afraid he might disappear while she slept. He, in turn, had covered the hand holding him with one of his and the other arm was draped across her back in a shielding, sheltering embrace.

After pulling out his personal phone, Finch couldn't resist taking several pictures before deciding it would be better for everyone if he announced his presence from the other side of the room in case John was startled. He tapped in a text message to his associate's phone and sent it, a bit surprised when he didn't hear a response chime.

Instead, John woke with the instant awareness of a highly trained soldier and his hand dropped to his pants pocket where he'd placed his cell. He was trying hard to stay still so he didn't jostle the sleeping girl. The message flashed on the screen, _I'm here and didn't want to just walk up on you._

He turned his head towards the door and spotted his friend watching him, "Thanks, Harold; I would have hated to drag her over the back of the couch and pull out a gun."

The other man limped forward a couple of steps now that the danger was past, "And I would have hated to see such a peaceful scene dissolve into madness."

"And I would have hated to throw something at both of you for waking me up so rudely, especially when I was so comfortable for once in my life."

Both men grinned at the teenager who folded her arms across her father's chest and rested her chin on top so that she could look at them.

"I trust that your appointment with Dr. Patti proved productive?"

"What would give you that idea, Harold?" John asked as he tweaked the girl's nose as she wrinkled it at him.

"Well, considering your daughter is currently playing the role of a blanket by being sprawled across your torso, I would say that she's recovered from at least some of the apprehension she has of you," he approached the pair now that they were both fully awake.

The icy green eyes turned his way as the fifteen year old smiled, "Despite being spoken about as if her presence were not currently occupying the room, she has indeed improved in the area of apprehension when it comes to her father and enjoyed very much having the occasion to cuddle, which is something she's not really had the opportunity to participate in." She then thumped her head back down on the chest beneath her, resulting in a soft grunt from the big man. She loved the way his laughter rumbled under her ear and couldn't help giggling softly in return.

Wrapping both arms around the girl, John sat upright, lifting her up along with him, "Since we invited Harold over for lunch, I suppose we should get it going so we can eat."

Ashlyn swung her legs free of the couch and used one of her father's broad shoulders to push herself upright, "I'll start the soup if you'll break out the desserts."

The former CIA agent laughed, "You just want to make sure you get your chocolate fix this afternoon."

"You betcha!" She all but bounced into the kitchen and started on her portion of the menu while her still chuckling parent pulled out bowls, plates, silverware, napkins, glasses, and the all important desserts.

Harold accepted the cold glass of tea placed in front of him as he slowly lowered himself to a chair at the table, "I'm pleased to see you getting along so well. I admit to being concerned that things would not be so amicable between you."

"Dr. Patti helped a lot," Ashlyn acknowledged softly. "She made me see that it wasn't that I was truly afraid of dad, but that I feared he'd abandon me. Once we worked through that, things got much better. We'll be seeing her twice a week for the next month or two until she's sure that we're bonding well, then cut back to every other week."

"We'll also be spending some time just hanging out together, talking, going places, basically learning more about one another and building off that," John added, eyes shining at her continued use of the word 'dad'.

"Excellent. We can put the machine on hold for a while until we make sure everything is going well for the two of you, or I can drag the detectives along for their assistance." He, too, had noted her use of the word and it pleased him a great deal to know she was adapting so quickly.

Ashlyn turned from the stove where she was stirring the soup, "No. I don't want people to lose their lives because of me, or us. There has to be some way that we can still help the numbers while working on our relationship."

"Sweetheart, you and this relationship are far more important to me than the numbers right now…"

Reaching back to turn the stove off, she then approached her father, "Dad, I know that, but I also know that I get to be a part of things now and can help. We can still make sure that we spend time together and get to our appointments, but this is important, too; isn't it?"

He enveloped her in a warm embrace, "I don't want you to feel like you're being shuffled to the back burner, baby. Sometimes, these numbers can take on a life of their own and I get pulled into them."

"If things start to get too involved and we need to pull you back, John, we'll call in Carter or Fusco to help," Harold reassured him. "I will make sure that the two of you have the time you need together; I want to see you both have the family you deserve."

Pulling free of her father's hold, Ashlyn approached the computer genius and leaned down to peck a light kiss on his startled cheek, "You're a part of that family, Uncle Harold."

As she returned to the stove for the soup, the billionaire reached up and grazed his fingers over the spot the girl had kissed him in stunned disbelief. It had been a very long time since someone had shown him affection in such a way and he couldn't quite wrap his brain around it. John just grinned at him, "Welcome to a new family, Harold. It's not just you and me anymore."

"So I'm coming to realize."


	10. Chapter 10

Part 10

The next day, John showed up at the library office with Ashlyn in tow to find out who their newest number was. The teen pulled a chair over to sit next to Finch and observe him at his work so she could begin the process of understanding and gradually taking over parts of it to help them. He had set her up with limited access to various areas of the system, similar to what her father already had, on another computer across from his. This way, she couldn't accidently get into something she wasn't supposed to or cause damage to the system when she wasn't familiar with it.

While the big man made himself comfortable in a recliner to read and watch, Harold found that he could barely keep up with the girl. He would start an explanation on one portion and she would grab it with both hands and take off running with it in directions he didn't think were possible for her to grasp just yet. He began creating scenarios, pitting himself against the teen on her own computer so he could test her knowledge and abilities. After about two hours of this, he turned to his associate, "John, I believe that we may have a small problem brewing here."

"And what problem would that be, Harold?"

"I don't know that I can actually teach your daughter anything other than where to find certain files."

John hid a smirk behind the book he was pretending to read, "Really, Harold? Now that surprises me considering your level of intelligence, the fact that you built this computer and the machine, and that you are the only one who's ever had complete and total access to it."

The other man glowered at the computer as if it were doing something wrong, "All of that is very true; however, there is something that I missed until just now."

"And what's that, Harold?"

"A portion of the system that I had locked off from all access other than mine behind numerous firewalls and security has been hijacked and is now being used against me."

"So, Harold, you're telling me that my fifteen year old has taken over the world and you can't get it back?"

"Basically, yes I am. And I'm not sure I'm particularly happy about the current situation."

A soft giggle from behind one of the computer screens brought John to his feet and around the desk so he could look over her shoulder. He joined in her laughter with such delight that Harold was forced to abandon his own chair and find out what they were doing. He was stunned to discover Ashlyn had pulled up a picture of Finch when he was younger and wearing a Halloween costume.

"How on earth did you find that and where?" he squawked.

Luminous green eyes peered over at him, "You had it in a file on the computer."

He placed a hand over his face and rubbed wearily at his temples, "I'm going to have to go through the entire system and purge anything and everything that can be used against me for blackmail, aren't I?"

"Hey!" John's startled exclamation brought his attention back to the teen. There on the screen, in all its disgusting glory, was the big, scary military man holding an infant who had just spit up all over him and next to it was another of him rocking the baby to sleep.

An emotion she wasn't sure of centered itself in her chest as she observed the shot of her father holding another child. Ashlyn examined the feeling and determined it to be a mix of hurt, jealousy, and an aching sense of loss. He had never held her at that age, never rocked her to sleep as a small child. Both of them had been robbed of that precious time together and it hurt. Badly.

"Leila Smith," Harold mused softly. "One of the numbers given to us by the machine; an adorable child, quite winsome."

Both pictures abruptly disappeared as Ashlyn returned control of the computer system to Finch, "So, what now?"

Both men blinked down at the teen in surprise at the suddenness of her actions and John reached out a hand to caress her cheek, only to have her pull away. When the computer genius didn't answer her immediately, she excused herself to go to the kitchen area and find something to drink.

"What just happened, John?"

"I think she saw that picture and it brought up some injured feelings, Harold. I'll talk to her about this later when she's had time to process it." He turned his gaze from following his daughter to his friend, "So what can or can't she do with the computer?"

The other man sat back down in his chair, "Well, she is still reliant on my password to actually pull up the entire system; I've set her up similar to yours so she can use it to some extend without it, though she's proved herself quite comfortable with accessing areas I didn't think she could get to. Ashlyn is amazingly quick in understanding the way things are put together and I believe that she will prove invaluable to us in research for the numbers the machine gives us."

"Good. Just as long as she's safe at all times, that's what's most important to me right now."

When the teen returned and settled back at the computer assigned to her, she was given the task of finding everything she could on their newest person of interest.

That evening, the exhausted girl and her equally fatigued father returned to the loft after a busy day. Ashlyn had spent hours digging up dirt on Kevin Dannick, accountant, trying to determine if he was victim or perpetrator. They had, at first, believed him to be the one someone was out to get and John moved into a position to protect him while Harold went to meet him at his office on some pretence. The youngster had found, at the last minute, a picture of Dannick on a street camera threatening a mother of three to "pay up or else" while waving a gun at her toddler. John had crashed through the office door just as the man was pulling a gun and knocked Finch to the ground trying to protect him while at the same time firing his own weapon.

By the time the police showed up, Dannick was trussed up like a holiday goose with his gun right in front of his nose along with a file containing information on every person he'd been extorting money from. Harold had taken a mild pain pill after playing tackling-dummy for his partner and collapsed into his bed at the library and John had collected Ashlyn and driven them home.

With a quiet, "Good night," Ashlyn retreated to her bedroom where she changed into sleeping attire, pulled a picture out of her purse, and curled up in a little ball in the bed with it. She continued to stare at it, allowing the tears to fall, until she drifted off the sleep.

After his offspring left him, Reese made his way upstairs to his own room and took a long hot shower before pulling on shorts and a tee shirt. Padding silently back downstairs, he knocked gently on the door to the other bedroom; when he didn't receive an answer, he cautiously opened the door a crack and peered in. Seeing her asleep, he approached and found her cradling a picture, which turned out to be a copy of the one she'd found at the office of him holding Leila and rocking her to sleep.

It broke his heart to see the tears drying on her face and he knew that the next day would be a "let's sit down and talk about this" conversation so things didn't fester. He tenderly stroked a hand over her long loose hair before leaning over to press a kiss to the side of her head, "I love you, baby."

The first scream hadn't even died away by the time he'd hit the bottom of the stairs, sprinting all out for his daughter's room. He'd left the door cracked after tucking her in and it bounced off the plate behind it with the force of his blow as he went through it. Stopping two feet from the bed, John called Ashlyn's name loudly, trying to break her out of the nightmare that gripped her. After several tries, she suddenly sat bolt upright in the bed, shrieking, "NO!"

Before he could move or say anything, she was trying to throw off the covers, whimpering, "Dad? Dad, where are you? I need you. Please, dad, don't leave me now that I've found you. Don't give me up for another little girl, I promise I'll be everything you want me to be. Dad?"

He caught her as she lurched out of bed, still calling for him, and pulled her into his arms. She gave a soft sob as she fisted her hands into the back of his shirt, holding on for dear life as tremors overtook her slender form, "Dad?"

"I'm here, baby, I've got you and I'm not letting go." She gave another sob, this one in relief, burying her face in his chest while his rich gravelly voice flowed around her in the dark. This was what she'd always wanted when she'd dreamed of having a father. Someone who could chase away the bad things, hold her close to keep her safe, and told her how much he loved her.

And John was doing just that. He murmured in a low voice to her continuously so she knew she wasn't alone; held her tightly so she knew he was there and she was safe. When she showed no signs of letting go for a while, he simply picked her up and made himself comfortable on her bed with her draped across his legs as he pulled her blankets up to cover them both from the cool night air. One large hand continued to slide over her hair even as the other just encased her in its strength.

After about half an hour, Ashlyn loosened her grip and tucked her head closer under the square jaw, "I'm sorry I woke you; I know you've got to be tired from today, too."

"Never be sorry for something like that, sweetheart; if you need me, I'm there, no apologies."

She nodded as she settled a bit more into the strong figure that made up her father, relishing in his all-encompassing embrace, feeling completely and totally safe.

"Will you talk to me about it?"

Ashlyn considered the query. They had made a promise to each other that they would never lie when asked a question. If they felt they couldn't answer, they would say so, but never lie. "I dreamed that you gave me up so you could take care of the little girl you and Harold watched over, Leila Smith. You wanted the chance to actually rear a child from start to finish, not start in the middle with some damaged teenager you didn't know."

He closed dark blue eyes in pain even as he cradled her head closer to his chest, "Do you hear that beat?" She nodded and pressed herself tighter. "For many years, I didn't hear my own heart beating because it felt like it was dead and cold inside me; not even my friendship with Harold could bring me back." John kissed the girl's head and rested his cheek against her, "It's beating again; because of you. Because you brought me back to life with your beautiful black hair, stunning green eyes, and gorgeous smile. I have a little girl, I'm holding her in my arms right now, and I'm never going to let her go." His grip tightened further, "I love you so much, Ashlyn Caitriana, more than you will ever know."

She hugged him back hard, knowing that even her strongest embrace could do no damage to the powerful man, "I love you, too, dad."

They talk a while longer until sleep finally pulled her back under and he once again tucked her in carefully before seating himself with his back to her headboard and napped. When she started thrashing a bit at one point, he was able to calm her with a light touch and soothing voice so that she slept peacefully.

His internal alarm woke him at 6:30 am and he was surprised to feel remarkably rested considering he'd slept sitting up while trying to watch over his child. Reese slipped carefully from the bed, making sure Ashlyn was snugly covered, and returned to his own room to dress in workout clothing. Fortunately, Harold had seen to it that his home had a nice little exercise gym in it for days he couldn't be outside. This was just such as day as he wanted to make sure he was close in case the girl needed him. Leaving the door to the exercise room open (and only cracking hers), John hit the treadmill, cranking it up to his usual pace and running at a strong clip.

He was staring out the window as he ran, not really seeing anything in particular, just letting his mind drift, when the door to Ashlyn's room opened and she stepped out. Seeing him in the other room, knowing he was close by, comforted her and she moved out into the living room so he could see her. When he did, he began slowing his speed, motioning her to join him.

A little out of breath for the hard pace, he smiled at her, "How are you feeling this morning, sweetheart?"

"Pretty good, despite the hysterics last night." She ducked her head slightly, "Thank you for staying with me."

"Of course; no where else I wanted to be more." He gestured to the other equipment, "You're welcome to use any of this if you want. I usually like to run outside, but the weather doesn't always cooperate with me so I have all this instead."

"I'd love to run with you, but I doubt I could keep up. I'll go change and use the other treadmill since you don't mind."

He nodded as he ramped up his pace a bit more and she left to change. When she returned, Ashlyn climbed onto the other one and started it up, slowly at first, but she was soon moving fairly rapidly. John was impressed when she ran at that speed for as long as she did, before gradually slowing things down and cooling off at the same time he did. Once he stopped his, without thinking, John pulled off his shirt and picked up a towel lying nearby to wipe off the worst of the sweat. He realized his mistake when his daughter's sudden gasp was heard.

Turning slowly, he faced the girl, "It's alright, Ashlyn."

Staring at him, she shook her head, "No, it's not. Who hurt you like that?"

John shrugged, knowing the scars from various knife and gun battles were displayed all too prominently, "Many people over many years, sweetheart; they don't hurt any more."

Reaching out slowly, she barely skimmed her fingertips over a ridge of scar tissue on the left side of his broad chest, "An inch lower and you and I wouldn't be having this conversation."

Catching her fingers in a gentle grip, he lifted them to his lips for a quick kiss, "But it wasn't and we are. However, I'm going up for a shower; we can talk about my occupations in a former life another time."

She nodded reluctantly and left for her own shower, thankful that the place had separate tanks so both showers could be run simultaneously. When she finished, Ashlyn realized she had no idea what activities the day had in store, so she just grabbed a pair of shorts and a tank top before going to the kitchen.

Finding her father already there, she asked, "Do we have an agenda today?"

He flashed her a quick smile, "As a matter of fact we do. I thought you and I could take a trip to the Bronx Zoo and look around. I don't know if you've been, but I never have."

Ashlyn shook her head, eyes lighting up, "No, I've never to any of the zoos before. When do we leave?"

"They open at ten so we have time to go out for some breakfast beforehand. Sound good?"

She was nodding even as she hurried back to her room to put on comfortable shoes and returned in record time with a huge, eager smile. Her father just smiled benevolently as he picked up his keys and let her lead them out the door.

Breakfast was at a small 'mom and pop' diner not too far from their destination where they indulged in delicious homemade pancakes and crispy bacon while John emptied a carafe of coffee and Ashlyn had a huge glass of chocolate milk.

They arrived at the zoo just as the gates opened and stood in a reasonably short line for their tickets. Once inside, they looked over the schedule of shows, determined a course of action to make the ones they wanted, and set off. John was well aware of some of the looks they received. A few people appeared disapproving, thinking them possibly a couple (despite the disparity in their ages) until Ashlyn called him dad to get his attention for something. Others smiled to see a father out with his child enjoying the fresh air and fun. Then there were the looks of appraisal, women eyed his handsome face and powerful physique with interest while men of various ages gawked at the beautiful teen.

Ashlyn appeared to either not see the looks or not care about them as she enjoyed her time with her father and looked at the animals. In a whim, John led her to the children's section and let her actually BE a kid. He bought pellets so she could feed the various critters, sat with her to watch demonstrations, snagged a wandering employee who was taking pictures to get a shot of them posing with a magnificent scarlet macaw, and even tossed her up on a camel ride just so she could say she had the experience.

They stopped in one of the many stores and Reese picked up a digital camera so he could capture the day with his only child, having not thought about one when they left. Most of his equipment was geared for surveillance tracking, not to get pictures of the girl feeding a greedy black swan or giggling as she was surrounded by the stunning wings of multicolored butterflies or gazing in wonder at the handsome lion. He made sure that they saw everything the zoo had to offer.

For lunch, they ordered from the restaurant and John carried their food out onto a terrace overlooking a marshy area where they ate at their leisure and talked about what they had seen so far. As the afternoon progressed, he was glad he was in such good shape considering the teen seemed to have an unending supply of energy as she bounced from one place to another gleefully. They were on the opposite side of the park from their car when they realized it was about half an hour to closing. Ashlyn suggested the monorail and he quickly agreed, purchasing their tickets and making sure they got on the next one.

As the monorail made its way through the zoo, John rested an arm across the back of the seat and was pleased when his daughter took advantage of his open side to cuddle into him. He draped the arm around her, snuggling her closer for a hug as she rested her head on his shoulder. When they pulled into the station closest to where they parked, the two remained in their seat until most everyone disembarked.

As they exited, an older woman standing nearby gave them a smile and turned to John, "It so nice to see such a devoted father out with his daughter. And what a beautiful girl she is, too!"

"Thank you," Reese said as he stroked back one errant lock behind her ear, "I happen to agree, she is very beautiful."

Ashlyn blushed, which only served to emphasize her loveliness more. With her long hair loose and flowing around her in the breeze, green eyes dancing with joy, and face alight with health and happiness, she was stunning.

Once they reached the car, John pulled out his phone, "Do you have any particulars in mind concerning food for our dinner?"

She gave a tired chuckle, "Drive thru or take out to eat at home?"

He laughed, "I think that can be arranged." There were several places near their home that could be used so he set out in that direction while she flipped through the pictures on the phone. As they got closer, he began pointing out ideas and they agreed on a Thai place about a block from home, ordered, and settled into the loft for the night.

The next day brought another trip to the library where Harold was already knee deep in an investigation for another number. He smiled as they came in and inquired about their previous days exploits, even pausing long enough in his work to look over the pictures Ashlyn presented proudly to him.

Finch lifted one in particular, "Spectacular," he commented.

It was John's personal favorite and one he planned to blow up and frame for the house. One the roving employees whose job was to take pictures of visitors and convince them to purchase it from the zoo had taken it and he hadn't been able to resist. He had been leaning against a rail on one arm with Ashlyn standing in front of him, her back pressed against his chest as he rested his chin on the top of her head and wrapped his free arm around her slender waist. Directly in front of them, seated in its enclosure studying them, was a huge snow leopard. The look on the girl's face was complete awe and rapture at being so close to the beautiful cat while John's posture was clearly protective even as he admired the animal.

Once the pictures had been gone through and commented on, Ashlyn settled in with Harold to help with the research on the current mark while John headed out to the field to make contact. He could tell already that this would be a long one and he wanted to insure it didn't interfere with his time with his daughter so he brought Carter in on it without actually telling her why. For now, he planned to keep Ashlyn separated from the detectives who helped him until she was more comfortable with the whole situation.

The team spent all of Wednesday and Thursday working the case, but Friday saw only Harold and Carter on the job while the other pair spent the morning with Dr. Patti. She was just as happy with the pictures as the billionaire had been and very pleased with the way things were progressing. They talked about Ashlyn's nightmare after seeing her father holding another little girl and how it had made her feel as well as her emotions the day of the zoo trip. The teen was as open and honest as she could possibly be; she desperately wanted to make this relationship work and finally have a real life with an actual family.

On their way back to the office, they stopped to pick up some lunch for themselves and Harold, who greeted them with relief for both the food and the help. Things weren't going right with this number and he was getting frustrated. After eating, the military man went back out to stalk their prey while his daughter settled in with the computers and helped slog through mountains of data. Saturday found them all in the same positions, trying hard to solve what was going on so it could be laid to rest.

It wasn't until late Saturday evening that the break finally came through. Carter had been running some fingerprints for them through the police records and got a hit. Their number was being targeted by a crooked politician trying to bury a story that would ruin his campaign. By that point, John didn't bother with niceties and ruined the man's run for office by planting a gun and a large stash of money and drugs in his briefcase. Carter was happy to drag him away in cuffs.

Sunday afternoon found a refreshed father and daughter at the mall where John was determined to finish her wardrobe and buy a large amount of other things just to see her smile. Their first stop was an exclusive women's clothing store where they needed to pick out a couple of fancy dresses in case they were required for some reason. The large man once again made himself comfortable in a chair to wait for the fashion show.

The first dress was an exquisite shade of coral that fell to her ankles. It was a one shoulder chiffon with a delicate crystal brooch on the shoulder and one hip while the fabric draped lightly over her form. John loved it immediately and marked in the 'yes' category.

Next came a floral print that hugged her body from shoulder to knee, and when she turned to show him the back, he found that it was almost completely bare. He sent the store employee who was helping them a dark glower and gave the dress a big 'NO'.

Third was a scrap of cloth (he won't call it anything else) that looked more like a white toga. It was fitted across her torso to the waist where it was gathered with a sash, and then fell to the tops of her thighs in nearly see-thru fabric.

They were given a new employee to assist in their selections.

The dress Ashlyn walked out wearing next never made it past the doorway before John was on his feet and heading in her direction. The taffeta pile all but buried her in the many folds and looked like something Harold's grandmother would have worn to a funeral with its unrelieved black.

John bought the first dress and dragged his snickering offspring out the door while the two employees huddled in a corner flooding the place with tears.

Shop number two was told they had one chance to impress him. They lost when they put his girl in a hideous prom dress in bright red that was sleeveless, had a weird cape attached to the back, and a floor-length skirt that was split up to the hip.

They didn't even stop at a third store when the mannequin in the window was wearing a mini-dress of mostly see-thru lace.

Their final establishment greeted them at the door warmly and invited them into a well lit shop that displayed gowns tastefully and appeared to have a very nice selection. The owner came out from behind the counter and sympathized with John over their previous failures and promised she had something that would be perfect for a fifteen year old young lady. As she led Ashlyn away, the woman directed one of her staff to bring her two particular items.

When Ashlyn stepped out in the first one, John's approval rating shot up instantly. The emerald green gown hung just off the shoulders with small crystals accenting the seam where cap sleeves met the bodice. It was formfitting, but not obscenely so in his opinion, and stopped right at the knee with a gathered waist adorned with more crystals. At the sides and back along the waist, a sheer train in the same color as the dress floated around her to the floor creating movement. He nodded to the owner in agreement.

The floor length gown she came out in next dropped in graceful folds from the waist, covered in silver beading, to the floor. The sweetheart neckline flowed into short sleeves and the color, a rich burgundy, made the girl's eyes stand out even more.

Both dresses were carefully packed up and John had Ashlyn and the owner decide on matching shoes for each of the gowns, requesting that everything be sent to the loft. The owner was gracious enough to include the first dress they'd purchased from the other store in the delivery and promised to have everything to them the next day.

Heading for a music store, he kept his word and let her pick out all the CDs she wanted by her favorite artists. The nearby bookstore faired equally well as both of them found numerous things to purchase.

Their next stop was a jewelry store which had Ashlyn attempting to pull him right back out when she saw some of the prices on items. He simply wrapped an arm around her and guided her over to one of the large glass cases.

"Good afternoon, may I help you?"

Reese looked up at the middle-aged man who approached them, "I'm hoping so; I'm looking for some nice necklaces, bracelets, maybe a ring or two, and a watch for my daughter."

The jeweler extended his hand, "I'm David; do you have anything in particular in mind? Stones, metal, things like that?"

Shaking the offered hand, he introduced himself and his daughter, "We just purchased some gowns for her in green, burgundy, and a coral color, so I'd like to get something for each of those that will accent them as well as some she can wear whenever the mood hits."

Nodding his head, David asked, "Do you happen to have a swatch or picture of the colors to help?"

"As a matter of fact," John pulled out his cell phone. "I managed to take some shots while she was wearing them." He showed each picture to the other man who complimented the girl on how she looked in each one.

Once he had an idea of what they were looking for, the jeweler pulled out a variety for them to look over and Ashlyn just hid her face in her father's shoulder at the expense of it all. John just smiled and started pointing out the ones he wanted for her.

There was the delicate silver chain with a floating heart in pink diamond chips and bracelet made entirely of pink diamonds; then the necklace and bracelet of coral beads that almost perfectly matched the color of the dress; emeralds of stunning clarity were picked out in the form of necklaces, bracelets, and earrings. He also chose simple gold and silver chains and an array of pendants that could be matched with them to suit her. A pretty watch made of silver links whose face had four emerald chips to mark noon, three, six, and nine was placed on her wrist and Ashlyn had to admire the workmanship on it even as she cringed at the amount he was spending.

David rang everything up and placed it all into velvet boxes while John calmly pulled out a wallet full of cash and handed much of it over. The heavyset man raised bushy eyebrows at him, "Aren't you worried about someone robbing you?"

The military man simply fixed hard, cold eyes on him for a moment, "Would you want to rob me?" The jeweler couldn't get them out of the store fast enough.

Ashlyn was silent on the walk back to the car and her father was on alert to make sure no one had spotted him spending so much cash on jewelry and wanted to make a go for them. Once they were safely on the road, he reached over and gently took her hand, "I know you're unhappy with me for buying you all that, but I can certainly afford it with the salary Harold pays me and I wanted to indulge both of us. It's very rare that I shop for myself and I find taking you to the store to be immensely rewarding. I want you to be able to enjoy the experience as much as I do."

She listened to him and formulated her reply carefully, not wanting to either upset him or bring out the protective streak that ran so deep inside, "I've never really had anything of my own other than my computer and clothing. The things I brought with me had belonged to mom, like the ring you gave her and some little knick knacks. She snuck me the IPod and some music, but that was really it." Ashlyn took a deep breath, "I never went shopping like that before. Or like when we went last week to buy everyday clothes. Mom would get me a few things or would order from a catalogue, so this was a brand new occurrence for me. The only time I've even been given money was when my aunt or uncle handed me a ten or twenty and told me to go up to the corner store with a very precise list of what to buy."

John pulled the car over into a nearly empty park, undid his seatbelt, and turned to face her, "I wish that I could change everything that you went through, sweetheart, and it enrages me that I can't. I know you don't want me to buy everything you even look at or try to make up for missing out on the first fifteen years of your life, but you're going to have to let me indulge in a little paternal neediness for a while. I promise that I will try to not buy you a pink corvette or a billion dollar mansion of your own, but I want to give you pretty things and stuff that makes you smile. If I go overboard, you can tell me and I'll try to back off."

Facing him, she leaned forward a bit and stated solemnly, "You didn't just go overboard, you sank the whole ship right along with you today."

He laughed, enchanted at her sense of humor and that she could be so easily forgiving of his faults, "Yes, I did, and I freely admit it!"

Ashlyn shook her head at him, "You know, with all the work I'm putting in with you and Harold, I ought to be getting paid, too. Then I can buy things I want to get _you_."

Reese pulled out his wallet, "One allowance, coming up." He took her hand and placed several bills on her palm, "There you go. We can debate how much you should get a week later, but this should be good for last week's hard work."

"Dad," the teen squawked in exasperation, "There's seven hundred dollars here!" When he reached for more, she nearly slapped the billfold out of his hands, "Dad!"

He just grinned at her, unrepentant, put his seatbelt back on, and drove them home.


	11. Chapter 11

Part 11

Some spoilers for the end of Season one, beginning of Season two and Root's involvement in the lives of our happy crime stoppers. I couldn't remember the last name of Finch's fiancé so made one up and also created my own dates for things to have occurred.

Things settled into a routine for the next few weeks. On Tuesdays and Fridays they went to see Dr. Patti, on Sundays and Mondays they went to various sights: other zoos, parks, the movies, shopping, special events happening in the city, whatever took their fancy, Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays were spent working on whatever number the machine spit out for them. They even managed to talk Harold into joining them on occasion, providing it wasn't something that required a great deal of walking or standing. Overall, the little family was coming together nicely, the nightmares seemed to have stopped, and Dr. Patti was able to drop them down to once a week visits.

Then Harold was kidnapped by Root.

John demanded the machine help them find his friend and Ashlyn worked feverishly at the computers trying to find anything she could to get him back. When he came to her after the machine called him and gave her the information relayed to him, they scrambled to figure it out. The former agent had no choice but to involve Carter and Fusco, though he refused to actually allow his daughter to have any contact with them and instead used himself as the intermediary.

He was at his wits end when he collapsed into a chair in the library, head falling back to stare at the ceiling, "I don't know what else to do, Ashlyn. My friend is out there, somewhere, with that woman plotting only God know what for him."

She was sitting at her computer and looking with narrowed eyes at the one Harold used, "If only I could figure out his password, I would have better access to things. There's only so much I can do, even with the hacking, from this one. He has so much _more_ on that system, like being able to get to all the cameras in the city and surrounding areas."

"I couldn't even begin to tell you, sweetheart; even to try to guess would be beyond me."

"I know its length and that it's a combination of letters, numbers, special characters; I even know how it's laid out, but I don't know what he would use."

Her father sat bolt upright, "Wait; you said you know the length and combination?" She nodded, watching his face in confusion. "How do you know that for sure?"

"I've listened as he entered the password, counted the key strokes, and picked up on the differences; all part of the eidetic memory thing."

Rising from the chair and pacing, John let his mind bounce ideas around for a few minutes before stopping at the dry erase board they used for details on numbers and asking, "How is it laid out?"

Ashlyn closed her eyes and pulled up the memory of the last time she heard him at the keyboard, "Fifty four to fifty seven digits in length. Two numbers, one character, two numbers, one character, four numbers, one character, five letters, one character, eight letters, one character, ten letters, one character, two numbers, one character, two numbers, one character, four numbers, one character, then six, seven, eight or nine letters." She opened her eyes and watched as he scribbled on the board. "The first part doesn't change but the last set of numbers and letters seems to."

He paused in his writing, "What do you mean?"

"Well, he enters everything the same through the character after the first set of letters, then the next two numbers changed, once since I've been here, and the next two numbers after that changes daily. Then the last set of letters changes daily. So that means his password changes every single day."

John finished his notations and stepped back to look at the layout he'd put together using the exact same letter, number and character each time.

11-11-1111-AAAAA-AAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAAA-11-11-1111-?(?)

"Dates!" Both of them cried at the same time as the girl jumped up to join Reese at the board.

"But what dates?" she asked. "You know him better, dad, what dates would he use?"

"I have a few possibilities in mind, but we'll have to try each one to see. I can't figure out why the last date would change daily."

The teen studied the board for a few moments before something in her brain connected the dots, "The date! The second date; the second number, it changes each day, I can hear the difference in the keystrokes so it has to be the two digit month and day and four digit year. The last set of letters equals out to each day of the week."

She threw herself at her computer, closed her eyes to pull up the memory more clearly, and experimented. The excitement in her expression told him she had that part figured out correctly and could 'hear' the correctness of what she entered. He had her enter a particular date and she nodded when the sound of it coincided with her memory.

John hugged her tightly when she returned to his side, "Good job, baby." They studied the board again and he changed it to reflect what they'd found so far.

06-11-2009-AAAAA-AAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAAA-10-25-2012-thursday

"A place? Someone's name? Computer parts?" the girl tossed out ideas in desperation.

Her father caught hold of her shoulders and turned her to face him, "If you entered a specific name, would you be able to tell if it's the same one he entered by the sound and your memory?"

"I should." She sat down at the computer again and looked up at him expectantly.

"Grace Savannah Dorvanichi."

She typed it in, slowly at first, eyes unfocused, then entered it faster and faster until she was entering it at the same speed Harold always did. "I don't know how you knew that was the name, but it fits."

Grabbing her chair, he wheeled it around the desk, shoving Harold's out of the way and positioning her directly in front of the master computer, hovering as she carefully typed out:

06/11/2009-grace-savannah-dorvanichi-10-25-2012-thursday

The system came to life under her fingers.

John looked over to the other side of the car he was driving, "Harold, you doing alright?"

"I'm doing as well as can be expected, John. Though, I do have to ask, why is there a canine panting over my shoulder from the back seat?"

"Because you're sitting in his spot in the front," the big man quipped softly.

"Hysterically funny."

"I thought so. He's actually a long story, and one that I'll tell you as we drive, but first I need to call Ashlyn and reassure her." He was already tapping the earpiece to call the girl, smiling when she answered anxiously, "We're fine, sweetheart. I've got Harold and we're on our way back to the library now; ETA about thirty five minutes." He listened for a moment, "That's sounds good, baby, and thank you." Another smile, "I love you, too."

The billionaire shifted in his seat slightly to ease a cramp in his back, "I'm pleased that things are continuing to progress so well between the two of you."

"So am I. I never thought I'd be much of a father, but now I can't picture life without her."

The other man nodded, "Watching you with her, I can see how good a parent you are, John. You may not believe it, but you're a natural at it."

Reese glanced over at his friend again, "As much as I love to talk about my beautiful daughter, Harold, you seem to be avoiding two topics very carefully, so why don't you just go ahead and put us both out of our collective misery."

"I'm not quite ready to talk about Root, suffice to say she wanted the machine and I was disinclined to give her any information on it."

"That's topic number one, so ask your question."

Harold studied the former agent silently for several moments before finally blurting out, "How did you figure things out?"

"The afore-mentioned beautiful daughter took Root's life apart piece by piece and then reassembled the puzzle. I found the phone message you left at that house and the rest is history. I only wish that I'd been able to kill her while I was at it."

"As do I, John, as do I." The dog sneezed over his shoulder, prompting a shudder and exclamation of disgust. John decided that would be a good time to change the subject and told Harold about his acquisition of the furry beast.

When Harold reached the inner sanctum of his library office, the first thing he saw was _his _computer system up and running, pictures from cameras all over the city flashing past at a speed only its processor could keep up with. Noises and smells coming from the kitchen area announced the teenager's location and that was the direction he headed.

Ashlyn was setting out the food she'd ordered from a local Chinese place, knowing that both men hadn't had much to eat over the last few days and would need the sustenance. She had been so relieved when her father let her know that he had Harold and they were safe; he had become as much family to her as John.

"_What did you do?!"_

She dropped the empty bag she was holding and spun around to face the enraged man screaming at her. Ashlyn was so stunned to hear the mild mannered Finch yelling that she couldn't begin to formulate a reply and started backing away from him as he advanced into the room.

"_I didn't password that system on a whim just to have a fifteen year old want-to-be-hacker waltz in and destroy years of work! How dare you? How did you even figure it out?"_

She tried to stutter out an answer but all of her old fears resurfaced and she was once again the child helpless against the fury of a man. In desperation, she tried to get away from him, only to catch her foot on a chair and tumble to the floor. Unable to see from the tears clouding her vision, Ashlyn crawled into a corner and huddled into a ball, hoping to protect herself from serious injury.

John's shout of _"FINCH!" _was nearly drowned out by the roar of the massive dog that broke free of his leash and raced to position himself in front of the terrified girl, lips lifted as he snarled menacingly at the computer genius.

Harold was jerked out of his rage by the hazard of bodily harm from long fangs but he didn't have much of a chance to contemplate his actions before the man who had just saved his life now threatened it. He was grabbed from behind in a hold he couldn't have broken free of had his body been whole and yanked from the kitchen. A voice growled something at the dog as he was forcibly removed to one of the rooms converted to sleep in and released with a light shove.

Turning, he found himself pinned by dark blue eyes that blazed with the promise of death set in a harsh cold face. Before he could say anything, John loomed even closer.

"How could you?" He'd heard that husky voice in every possible emotion he thought, but he'd never experienced that towering fury directed at him. "She went days with barely any sleep because she was killing herself trying to help me find you, and you come in here and start screaming at her?" The eyes narrowed into laser beams, "You have a lot to answer for. Do you realize that you may have just set us back to the beginning? She had come so far and now I may have to start all over with her."

"I'm…I'm…I don't know what to say, John; I don't know what came over me." Harold ran his hands over his hair, wide-eyed in shock. "I can't believe I did that. I would never hurt her, dear god, how could I have spoken to her in that manner?" He began to pace, limp heavily pronounced from the physical duress his body had been put through and fatigue, "I was so angry suddenly when I saw the computer up and I lost control. I never lose control, what's wrong with me?" He faced the other man so abruptly he stumbled, forcing Reese to grab him to prevent a fall, "John, you need to go back in there; you need to make sure she'd alright."

The larger man pulled out a chair and sat his associate down firmly, "You stay there until I get back, Harold. Understand? Don't move." The other's head bobbed quickly and he hurried from the room.

Entering the kitchen, John found the shepherd leaning protectively against the girl who had her arms wrapped around his thick neck as she trembled uncontrollably. The dog started to growl at him until he gave a soft command causing the animal to fall silent. Sitting on the floor next to his traumatized daughter, John gathered her up, dog and all, and held her against his chest, whispering soothingly to her as he ran his hand up and down her back.

"He didn't mean what he was saying, baby, Harold was still in shock from what happened and I didn't think to tell him about the computer."

Ashlyn burrowed into his chest, one arm snaking around his neck, the other still clung to the dog, "I've not seen him act like that before. It scared me and I had a flashback."

He hugged her closer, "I can go pound him into a bloody pulp if you want me to," he offered.

She lifted her head long enough to give him a narrow-eyed look, "Of course not," before cuddling back in.

"I could sic the dog on him, then."

"Dad," came a groan from his chest.

John heaved a false sigh of deliberation, "Fine, I'll just go beat him up a little, then."

Before she could answer, another voice joined them, "No need, John, I think I can beat myself up enough mentally."

The pair on the floor looked up and the dog snarled until given a low command as Reese glowered at Finch, "I don't have my daughter's perfect memory, Harold, but I'm pretty sure that I told you to stay where I put you in the other room."

Pulling out a chair, the other man lowered himself to sit, "You did, John, however, like you, I'm not necessarily good at taking orders, especially after a day like this one. I was…concerned…about what I did and said and needed to see you both." He studied his hands, "Being held by Root the way I was has left me feeling…I'm not sure of the exact words…but I supposed almost irrationally fearful of being alone in a room. Though that doesn't quite convey the feeling of relief and safety being in the same room with you brings, despite the fact you're both rightfully furious with me."

Ashlyn attempted to push herself free of her father's grip and the canine's bulk, but neither seemed inclined to be helpful until she jabbed the big man with an elbow to the diaphragm; then he rose, setting her on her feet and ordering the dog back. The girl edged closer to the table and carefully pushed a large container of wonton soup towards the billionaire, "I figured you would be hungry after everything so I had some Chinese delivered."

He looked at the shy child, so hesitant after his verbal abuse, yet still so compassionate. Damaged, but unbroken, despite his cruelty. "Thank you, Ashlyn, for everything. What I did was unconscionable and I deeply regret it. Here you've done so much to help John find me and get me home, provide food so that I have sustenance, and what do I do to repay it?" He glanced over at the Belgian Shepherd, "You should let the dog maul me; I can tell he'd like to by the way he's eyeing me."

"I offered to sic the dog on you, Harold, she refused."

"That's very kind of you, Ashlyn."

"Of course, I also offered to beat the crap out of you and she refused that, too."

She shot her father a look, "I believe your exact words were 'I can go pound him into a bloody pulp'. Not a very nice picture, you know."

"What he did to you wasn't very nice and I wanted to make sure he knew it."

Finch rose and stood with his eyes downcast, "I'm very much aware of my actions, John, and I certainly would understand the paternal instinct you have to protect and the need for retribution. I understand if you desire a termination to both our friendship and our employment arrangements after what I've done."

The canine moved close enough to lean against her leg and shove his nose into the palm of the girl's hand, giving her a sense of courage, "Both of you need to shut up, sit down, eat, and listen to what I'm going to tell you," Ashlyn snapped, her nerves frayed to breaking point and she needed to get them to stop their posturing and pay attention. Her fingers tangled themselves in the animal's thick ruff as she scratched him gently in thanks for helping her find the strength to deal with these two men.

John's mouth opened and closed several times in surprise at her tone of voice before he dropped into one of the chairs and Harold just numbly retook his seat. Both men were stunned at the force behind her words since she'd always feared their reaction if she was anything other than docile and agreeable.

Once they were seated and paying attention, Ashlyn took a deep breath, "I know that I had a flashback and it reduced me to a trembling puddle of tears, but I'm not so fragile anymore that I can't bounce back. Dr. Patti has helped me so much in getting over my fears and I'm better able to handle things now than I was when you first brought me home." Pale green eyes speared the billionaire, "Uncle Harold, I had no choice but to get access to your computer system if we were going to find you. We weren't having much luck any other way and dad's threatening of the machine was proving too slow for us."

Harold pivoted his body around to look at John, "You threatened my machine?"

The other man shrugged, "I didn't know how else to get you back and it has the ability to do things I can't."

"It did help, in its own way, though I wasn't happy with the route it choose," the teen muttered.

"I programmed it so that it didn't place my wellbeing above that of others; though it was quite a challenge as it seemed to be very watchful where I was concerned."

"We're getting off the subject," Ashlyn huffed. "Between us, we were able to figure out what your primary password was to get into the full system. I was able to use it to help dad track everything from the moment you were taken until he caught up with you at the station." She gestured to the main room where the computer was continuing to whir its way through cameras at top speed, "Once he had you safe and Root escaped, I set up the system to scroll through everything it could to try to find her so we can put a stop to whatever she's trying to accomplish."

"She wants the machine," Harold said softly. "But I wouldn't tell her anything." Taking a breath to bring himself back under control, he looked up at the girl, "So how did the two of you decipher my password?"

Moving slowly, the teen approached the table and lowered herself to a seat, nudging food again towards the computer genius and placing the containers for her father in front of John, "Well, I kind of started counting your keystrokes when you entered it and figured out the letters, numbers, and characters. From there, we…"


	12. Chapter 12

Part 12

Things settled into a routine again for the most part. Harold suddenly found himself being dragged along to therapy with Dr. Patti when his phobia about going out after the kidnapping became evident. The little family talked everything out with the good doctor concerning his capture, John's fight to get him back, Ashlyn's use of the forbidden computer, and the blow up afterwards. The woman decreed that his extreme reaction had been brought on by stress, anxiety, and fear, all of which were being allayed by the love and care the other two showed.

Gradually, Harold began taking walks again around the neighborhood, at first always accompanied by John on one side and the canine, newly named Bear, on the other (making him the safest man in New York City). His paranoia was worse than ever for a while, but it also showed signs of easing as the soothing balm of family brought comfort to his fretful soul. He realized that Ashlyn and John had not broken his code maliciously, but to help find him, and he didn't try to change the password again to lock them out, proving his level of trust.

The teenager returned to her studies between helping the two men with the numbers that kept coming in and easily excelled as she always did. Secure in the love and comfort of her father and adoptive uncle, Ashlyn was able to do things she'd never before dreamed of and she found herself branching out in many different directions.

John had been unhappy when he found out she'd been observing some of his physical altercations with the bad guys; he'd been tipped off to what she was doing after a particularly nasty fight where he'd broken the man's arm in several places, snapped ribs like twigs, dislocated a kneecap, and knocked him unconscious. The police had to take him to the hospital for treatment before transporting him to jail. When he'd returned to the library that evening to pick her up, she shifted away from his touch so causally that he wasn't even aware at first she was actually avoiding him. When they left, she was more quiet than normal, answering his questions about her studies, but as briefly as possible.

He decided to stop at a restaurant for dinner and she sat across from him, eyes and head lowered. When their waitress appeared to take their order, Ashlyn actually flinched as the woman surprised her from behind and scooted deeper into the corner of the booth they were sitting in. As soon as they had given their orders and the woman walked away, John was leaning across the table, "Okay, what's wrong?"

Green eyes flickered up to meet his gaze for a brief second before dropping again, "Nothing."

"Wrong answer," the big man replied as he slid out of the seat and pivoted to plop down in the seat next to her. The teen's response was to nearly cower into the wall beside her and turn her head into the wood protectively. John felt his heart shatter at this evidence that his daughter once again feared him for some reason. "Talk to me, Ashlyn, don't shut me out, please. We promised never to lie to one another."

She shook her head almost violently and he sighed heavily. This was going to be a long night.

The screams of terror brought him catapulting down the stairs and through the door to his daughter's bedside in record time. She was sitting up already as he came in, hands clapped tightly over her mouth as she attempted to stifle the sobs breaking free, and he hurried to her, "Easy, baby, it's alright."

Chanting, "No, no, no," the girl tried to scramble off the other side of the bed away from him, but John was having none of it. With lightening fast reflexes, he caught hold of her slender form and pulled her into his arms, automatically fending off her blows as she attempted to escape him. Finally, worried she might hurt herself, he just pinned her arms to her sides in a firm embrace and trapped her against his broad chest as he sat on the edge of the bed.

She didn't tire out nearly as easily as she had when they'd first found her, but she still didn't stand a chance against his power and strength and eventually gave up.

"Talk to me," came the soft command. Usually when she woke him with her cries, he asked her if she would tell him what was going on; this time it was a clear order.

Hesitantly, she began to speak, "I saw what you did to that guy today. You hurt him really bad and there was absolutely no expression on your face the entire time. How could you do all that to him and not feel something? And all the other times you've knocked people around or taken them down, you don't seem to register anything."

John's mind whirled over the events of the day until he pinpointed what she was referring to and he remembered exactly the damage he'd done and why.

Crap.

This was SO not something he wanted to talk to his fifteen year old daughter about.

Unconsciously, he slowly began to rock, trying to sooth both himself and his agitated child as he formulated a reply. She was old enough to know about the real world, but their life together was still so new and he wanted to shield her from the harsh realities of life.

Finally he sighed, "It wasn't that I felt nothing, sweetheart, or that it doesn't register; I've been trained to respond and react to almost any given situation without true conscious thought. I see someone with a gun, they have to be neutralized so they don't hurt someone. If some guy comes at me swinging, I'm going to stop him. I don't think about what I'm doing, I just do it, so it looks like I don't feel anything when it happens." He looked down into the pale eyes watching him so closely, "How do you know about these things?"

She ducked her head under his chin to avoid his dark blue stare, "When you're out sometimes, I track you on the cameras so I know you're alright."

"Why?"

"Because I'm afraid you might be taken like Harold was and I want to make sure I can find you if it happens," she admitted in a whisper.

"Oh, baby, you can't obsess over that or you'll drive yourself crazy, not to mention the heart attacks you're going to give me when you see something you shouldn't and have nightmares," he hugged her tighter in loving reassurance.

Ashlyn's arms snaked around his waist as she clung to him, "I can't help it; I keep thinking that someone's going to take you away from me."

"No one is going to separate us. In fact, I've started the process of officially being named your father so I have all the rights a legal parent would."

She leaned back slightly in his grip to look up at him, "How? I mean, you don't really exist on paper, do you?"

Settling himself more comfortably, John shook his head, "I have a number of aliases that have 'died' over the years and have created so many paper trails that no one remembers I had a real name. That is the name that I'm going to have put on the paperwork; and I would like to legally change your last name to match."

Her fingers played idly with the collar of his tee shirt, "You know, I don't actually know what your real name is. Mom always just called you 'John' when she talked about you."

One large hand came up to envelop hers, "I've been Reese for a number of years, I guess I forgot about that. I'm sorry, sweetheart; I should have told you when I first brought you home."

"So what is it?"

"Shepherd. Jonathon Shepherd."

She gave a soft laugh, "How appropriate, Shepherd."

John chuckled as well, "I never really thought about it, but you're right."

"So, back to my original problem," she cuddled back down comfortably, "why did you beat that particular guy as much as you did? He didn't seem to be resisting very much, especially after you broke his arm. Twice."

"Four times, actually. Or I should say in four different places."

"Not really helping here, dad."

"Sorry," John began stroking her hair to sooth himself as much as her. "That guy was the worst of the worst in my opinion and when he admitted to me that what he did he not only enjoys but would continue to do, I kind of lost it."

"What did he do?"

He took a deep breath, "He was a rapist; the nastiest kind because he targets children and specifically girls between the ages of ten and seventeen." He pulled his legs up so that she was cradled tightly to his torso and completely encircled by his warm embrace, "All I could picture was you at his mercy and me unable to get to you in time."

Ashlyn shuddered violently at that picture and huddled into his protective hold, "Now I know why you beat him so badly."

He shifted slightly, uncomfortable with what he was about to admit, but feeling she needed to know the full truth, "I wouldn't have stopped, baby. Unless I was forced to, I wouldn't have stopped until I'd killed him."

"What made you stop?" she whispered.

"A voice screaming in my ear that I didn't want to do this and needed to cease immediately."

"Harold?"

"Harold."

She frowned, "I was in my study room at the library watching it on the screen, but I never heard him raise his voice."

A chuckle sounded deep in his chest and echoed in her ear, "Sweetheart, don't you know that he has almost all of those rooms soundproofed so that if the doors are closed you can't hear anything?"

Her head shot up, "What?!"

"Part of his paranoia, he wanted to make sure that if anyone was in the building they wouldn't be able to overhear him when he was talking to me."

Pale green eyes narrowed, "So that's why he keeps doors closed all the time."

"That's why." He caught her chin so that she focused on him, "Now, I want you to promise me that you're not going to continue to obsess over keeping an eye on me through the computer. Please."

She was silent for a long minute as she stared into his steady blue gaze, "Alright; I promise. But you have to promise to be extra careful when you're out stalking bad guys."

"That is one promise I will keep, little one. I've only just found you; I don't want to leave you anytime soon."

When they entered the library, Bear raced to greet them; happily pawing at his Alpha as the big man ruffled his neck and spoke softly to him, then leaning into Ashlyn's embrace when she knelt on the floor in front of him. When she rose, he pranced beside her, dark eyes fixed on her face, tail waving in delight to have all of his pack together. When Harold turned from his computer to greet them, the dog bounced over to him, barked once, then turned to the pair approaching and barked again. Looking back and forth, he waited impatiently for someone to understand what he was saying.

The computer genius only looked at him in confusion; having never had or spent time with a dog before he simply didn't get the nuances of body language being conveyed. The pack Alpha, however, got it.

"Good boy, Bear; yes, Harold knows we're here."

"Is that what all this is about?" Finch asked.

"Yes, Harold, Bear is letting you know that we're here and he wants it acknowledged."

The man only looked confused, "But I can see you; you're standing right in front of me so how could I now know that you've arrived?"

"He's a dog, Harold," John explained patiently, "all he wants to do is make sure you know the Alpha has arrived."

The billionaire harrumphed softly at the Alpha remark before looking down at the still dancing animal, "Good dog. I see them."

Ecstatic over being understood and praised, the canine dove into his bed and came up with a tennis ball which he promptly dropped on Harold's keyboard; slobber and all. With a sigh, he gingerly picked up the toy and threw it down the hallway, watching the long legs propel the Belgian at top speed after it. Reese chuckled at the man's pained expression and resignation at having a guard dog to play with.

Finch shot him a dark look before turning back to his computers, "We have another number."

"Of course we do."

The two men settled down at the computers to go over what information they had while Ashlyn contented herself in her study room, keeping the door open. Bear went back and forth to keep an eye on everyone and having the ball thrown before finally stretching out on a dog bed set up by her desk and napping. After a couple of hours, she finished the study module she was working on and rose to stretch, bringing the canine to his feet as well, hopeful for a walk.

Walking back to the main room, she found the two men staring at the clear board set up with a variety of pictures and notes, "I'm taking Bear for a walk, he and I both need to stretch our legs."

"Don't go far and make sure you have your phone, please, sweetheart," John responded without turning around as he pointed at something for his friend.

"Got it," she stated as she snapped her fingers for Bear; the big dog stayed glued to her side and sat promptly when she picked up the leash and clipped it to his collar. He was so well trained that he didn't actually need the lead, but the law required it and she wouldn't take any chances.

The pair walked a block over to a small park and Bear was happily engrossed in marking territory and checking out all the other scents while his mistress just enjoyed being out in the fresh air. She sat on the end of a bench and played the leash out to its end so he could continue his explorations while she looked around to see who else was in the area. There was a little playground nearby with several small children being watched over by parents and a snow cone vender doing good business. Another man hawked from the other side of the park for people to come buy his delicious hotdogs and, since it was nearing lunch, had several takers.

Reaching into her pocket, Ashlyn cautiously checked how much money she had on her before pulling out her phone and texting her father.

_Hotdogs for lunch?_

His reply came quickly, _YES!_

The teen giggled softly, her dad generally ate foods that were nutritious and good for him so that he stayed in shape, but he had certain things he craved now and then, hotdogs being one of them. _Uncle, too?_

This response was a bit slower, _Yes, plz. 1 w/all & 1 w/chz. Have $?_

_I'm good. BBL. K9 not done._

Pushing her phone back in her pocket, Ashlyn softly asked, "Bear, you about done?" He just wagged his tail and went back to sniffing after looking in her direction. The mistress hadn't given a command so he didn't have to hurry.

Holding the leash loosely in her hand, the teen leaned her head back and enjoyed the sunshine playing across her face.

Nearby, a man lowered himself to another bench and studied the beautiful girl, admiring the healthy gleam of her long black hair as it drifted around her in the breeze, her lovely face lit by the sun, slender body at ease and comfortable in her surroundings. She had been to the park a few times before, usually with an older man who looked nothing like her with his brown hair, sharp features, and glasses. This was the first time he'd seen her here on her own.

When Bear tugged gently on the lead, Ashlyn opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him. He was half buried under a thick bush, tail waving madly, as he whined eagerly at something. Curious, she rose and went over to him, thinking he must have found some kind of food he wanted, though he was trained to not eat something from the ground or a stranger. John had retrained the dog to answer to English commands to make things easier on Harold so she quietly commanded, "Bear, back."

Obedient, but unhappy, the dog came out from under the bush, and looked up at her expectantly. Leaning over so she could see, Ashlyn spotted something grey/black and furry and she thought at first it was a dead rat or a cat until it moved, turning a tiny muzzle in her direction and gave a whimpering cry. Dropping to her knees, the girl reached in and carefully pulled out a filthy, matted, emaciated puppy that whined fearfully and tried to crawl back into its hiding place. She murmured softly to it and cradled it close to her body, feeling its shaking form. Bear reached up and sniffed the pup before gently swiping a large warm tongue over its face.

Tucking the pup in one arm, Ashlyn hurried over to the hotdog vender, first asking him if he knew anything about the little critter, then ordering lunch for her family and extra for the animals when he indicated the negative. He was kind enough to put everything into a bag for her so she wouldn't have to juggle food, pup, and Bear so much. Thanking him, she hurried out of the park, never noticing the eyes that followed her from a distant bench.


	13. Chapter 13

Part 13

As the door to the library closed behind her, Ashlyn unclipped Bear's lead so he could run ahead and called for her father. He was waiting at the top of the stairs when she reached them and the girl handed him the puppy, startling him enough he nearly dropped the poor thing when he'd been expecting to take the food.

"Bear found him in the park under a bush, dad," she informed the big man as she caught hold of his sleeve to tug him along with her to the kitchen. Once there, she set the food down, noticing that Harold had joined them, "I don't know what breed he might be, if he has an owner, what shape he's really in, or if he'll live."

"He's too filthy and thin to know for sure on breeding and he's so cold and thin I don't know if we can save him." Seeing his daughter's devastated look he added, "But you know I'll do my best, baby."

Finch made an unconvincing face and commented without actual malice, "Lovely, another four footed furball to add to the growing collection." He sat down at the table and sorted through the hotdogs, raising an eyebrow at the teen at the amount.

"The one with only cheese is yours, Uncle Harold; the one with everything is dad's; the one with ketchup is mine; and the plain ones are for the dogs. I wanted to give Bear a treat for finding the puppy and I knew we didn't have anything suitable for poor thing on hand."

John finished his cursory inspection, "I can't find any injuries so that's good. Ashlyn, would you go grab a towel from the closet to wrap him in? We'll eat while he warms up a bit, then we can give him a bath and feed him."

The girl hurried away and returned quickly with a dark thick towel which she held open for her father to deposit the animal in. Sitting down carefully, she held it close while she wolfed down her hotdog and then broke Bear's into bites and fed him with lavish praise. Standing at the sink with her father, Ashlyn used the diluted dish soap and warm water to give the tiny creature a thorough bath. John commented that he must be feeling better when it began howling as the water ran over it. The shepherd danced behind them when the puppy's cries started, fretting over the scrap of life he'd found and wanted to take care of.

Once clean, Ashlyn again bundled the pup in the towel and carefully dried him. Afterwards, she fed him tiny bits of the hotdog until he gave a soft burp and collapsed into sleep in her lap. John had to leave for a while for a surveillance trip so he gave his daughter a kiss on the head, patted Bear, and headed for the door leaving Harold to man the computers. The teen placed her bundle on the Belgian's bed and Bear curled up around the towel, lending his own warmth while the girl went to help Finch with the number.

When John returned late that night, he found Harold dozing fitfully in his chair at the desk and his only child stretched out on the dog bed with Bear and the puppy. The shepherd didn't move from his position where he was guarding his family, but his tail thumped a happy welcome to the pack Alpha as he reached the top of the stairs. Leaning down, the big man stroked the elegant nose offered up to him and praised him for watching over everyone before gently waking Finch and sending him off to the bedroom he normally used when at the library.

Going into another room that had been set up with a pair of beds, Reese made sure they were ready with sheets, blankets, and pillows before pulling one down and going to get his daughter. Crouching down, he carefully slid his arms under the teen's sleeping body and scooped her up. Waking up enough to verify who had her, the girl smiled up at him before twining her arms around his neck and curling in closer.

Carrying her easily down the hall, John entered the second bedroom and lowered her to the waiting bed, pulling her shoes off and tucking her in with a soft kiss to her forehead, "Good night, little one."

"Night, dad," came the sleepy whisper.

Returning to the office, he scooped up the still-living puppy and quietly called Bear, taking both of the outside to do their business for the night. No one was around, so he didn't bother with a lead and Finch had installed a plot of grass for the dog's use just a couple of days ago for when the weather was nasty or it was late. Setting the pup down, both of the big males watched the creature wobble a bit as it found its footing before squatting. When it was done, the poor little thing looked around for something familiar and began a soft howling cry when it didn't see anyone.

Bear reached the pup first and nuzzled him, nearly knocking him over in his efforts to be reassuring. Chuckling at the Belgian's delight over having a baby of his own to care for, John swept the fuzzy thing up and led the way back inside where he took both animals to the kitchen. Opening a can of food, he placed a large portion in a bowl for Bear and patiently spooned small bites into the puppy's mouth until he was full. Once everyone was done, he retrieved the dog bed and towel, carrying both to the second bedroom and placing the bed against one wall out of foot traffic. Bear threw himself down and looked up at his Alpha expectantly as John made a nest from the towel and placed the already slumbering puppy in it. He smiled as the Shepherd curled up around the towel again to puppy-sit for the night.

The former agent checked on his sleeping child before grabbing shorts and a tee shirt and going to the bathroom to change. Closing the door so that puppy didn't wander if it woke up, he then made himself comfortable on the other bed and quickly fell asleep.

John's internal alarm went off at 5:30 the next morning and he roused himself enough to get up and verify his surroundings were still secure. Daughter still in bed, covered, and sleeping soundly. Check. Large dog still in bed and sleeping. Check. Puppy in towel, still alive, and sleeping. Partial check. Still in towel and still alive, thank goodness, but waking up even as he leaned over. Before the tiny creature could start vocalizing, Reese picked him up and beckoned to the now-awake Bear to take both outside and feed them before re-tucking everyone into bed and collapsing back into his own. Some days, even he needed a little extra rest.

He roused again several hours later and rolled himself slowly into a sitting position with a huge yawn. Looking around the room, John found that he was alone and rose to go in search of his missing family.

Ashlyn was seated at the kitchen table poking food down the puppy while Bear eagerly wolfed down his second meal of the morning and Harold inhaled a large mug of hot tea. The teen was talking softly to the pup, encouraging him with every morsel he took. When her father appeared in the doorway, she looked up with a warm smile and quiet, "Good morning."

"Morning, baby," he dropped a kiss on top of her head as he passed her for the coffee pot Finch had kindly started when he made his tea. "Morning, Harold; sleep alright?"

"Hmmm, yes, I did, thank you, John. What time was it when you came in last night?"

He took a sip of the scalding hot brew before answering, "Around midnight, but everything's wrapped up so we're done with this case."

"That's good. I find that I prefer these faster numbers to the ones that take days on end. We actually get a little down time in between for other pursuits."

The big man patted Bear when he came over to greet his master and affectionately ruffled the animal's fur, fingers finding all the itchy spots that quickly had the dog groaning happily. Noticing that Ashlyn was done feeding the puppy, he straightened and set his mug down, "Come on, sweetheart; let's take these two down to visit the mini-yard real quick." She followed him, carrying the tiny ball of fluff and placing him on the grass when they got outside.

John studied the small creature as he wobbled around in the sunshine, trying to keep up with Bear's bigger steps, "I think he may be a Sheltie, Ashlyn; a blue merle Sheltie. His eyes are dark and he's eating solid foods just fine so he's definitely weaned." He cocked his head as he eyed the critter, "Get him filled out with some more food, healthy, and trained, he'd make a wonderful pet."

The teen leaned into her father's warm solid side, "I supposed I should put up flyers or something to see if he has an owner. He may have just gotten away from his family or escaped from a yard and they're missing him."

"No flyers, it tends to bring out the crazies. We'll put some feelers out, cautiously, and see what we can find, but more than likely you and Bear have a new friend," he hugged her to him as they watched the two dogs interact.

Above them, watching out one of the windows, Harold Finch couldn't help the smile that broke over his face at the antics of the animals. "Well, I suppose having one more dog around here won't matter," he murmured to himself. "However, I do need to make sure that all my books are put up high enough that small teeth can't get to them again."

True to his word, John did some investigative work and found that the Sheltie pup had been abandoned by his owner. The man who had purchased the dog had been unhappy with his small size and sweet gentle nature and after his attempts to "toughen him up" had failed, he'd tossed the animal out to fend for itself. When the military man had left the former owner's home half an hour later, he had a promise from the guy to never own any type of pet again. Not even a fish.

After telling his daughter she now had a pet of her own to care for, the girl buried herself in everything dog and Sheltie she could find in books and on the internet so she knew how best to raise and train the pup. Christening him "Dakota" and finding a vet located nearby started him out the right path and his new doctor agreed that he was indeed a full-blooded Shetland sheepdog and, while on the small side, was certainly on the road to good health.

When John told Harold that he was going to have to find a third dog to keep at the library for protection and companionship since Bear and Dakota returned home with them each evening, he was immediately shot down.

"Under no circumstances are you to pick up yet another stray. Having these two under foot is enough of a challenge, I can assure you. Fortunately, when you're not here, Ashlyn is more than capable in overseeing their care so I can accomplish my work in quiet." Finch preferred his peace and solitude, though having Ashlyn at the library had become comfortable over time, and the dogs being there during the day was about all he could handle. He did, however, unbend enough to take Bear for walks each day along with Ashlyn and Dakota so everyone got their exercise.

When both men were in the field, Ashlyn would take the dogs out on her own and while John wasn't thrilled with her being on the streets, he knew Bear would kill to protect her. The little trio became a common sight at the park and children there enjoyed petting the gentle giant and miniature fuzzball; even the hotdog vendor got attached to them and treated the critters to a hotdog on occasion.

After a month, Dakota had filled out to a healthy weight and proved himself to be nearly as intelligent as big brother Bear, though he still got himself into puppy-sized trouble regularly. Finch had nearly had a heart attack when he tried to turn on his computer one afternoon and nothing came up. After a painful half hour of digging around on the floor under the desk, he found that the pup had chewed several cords into pieces. A wet spot in the middle of his bed proved that Dakota wasn't completely housebroken. Shoes left on the floor in an empty room were an open invitation to mischief.

At first, Ashlyn had tried to keep the active puppy in the study room with her so he would leave Harold and his things alone, but when she was needed to help with the computers while both men were gone, she couldn't always keep him out of trouble. One evening, the two men had returned to the office to find the teenager in tears after discovering Dakota had shredded one of the billionaire's expensive silk ties.

John had reached the top of the stairs and spotted her kneeling on the floor next to the dog bed, tears slipping down her face. When he picked up his pace to get to her, his partner limping quickly behind, Ashlyn saw them coming and scrambled to her feet, backing away with fear in her pale green eyes. The former agent stopped immediately, seeing the panic and not wanting to add to it by backing her into a corner, and held out one hand to prevent his friend from coming any further.

"Ashlyn? Sweetheart, what happened, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry; I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I didn't keep a close enough eye on him while I was pulling up background information on Jackson Morrue."

The computer genius saw the remains of his garment and sighed softly, "No, child, it's my own fault for not making sure the door to my room was closed when I left. The tie was hanging on the back of a chair where I hadn't put it up. You can't blame yourself for things the dog gets into, Ashlyn; he's a puppy and I know he's going to destroy things. I may not like it, but I accept it."

His quiet acceptance and admission earned him an armful of repentant teenager as she hugged him tightly. Ashlyn wasn't as comfortable with him as she was with her father and Harold wasn't huge on human contact, but her affection was genuinely given and willingly received.

Several days later, he needed a break from Bear and Dakota's constant noise where they were playing in the main area of the office. Ashlyn was in her study room completely engrossed with an online class she was taking on computer sciences when the older man tapped on the door frame, "Ashlyn? May I interrupt you?"

She straightened up instantly, "Of course, Uncle Harold."

"I'm sorry to disturb your academics, but the dogs are becoming most bothersome and I require focus at the moment. Would you be willing to take them out for some exercise and perhaps pick up something for lunch?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize they were taking over the place," she saved her work quickly and shut down the system as she rose. "Do you have a preference on food?"

"Perhaps something from one of the Thai places would suit, if you've no objections," he pulled out his wallet and handed her several bills despite her protest. "I know John provides you with funds on a regular basis but that is money for you to spend on things you want personally, not on food."

She knew it was pointless to argue so she accepted with good grace and stuffed the money deep in a pocket of her shorts, stashing her cell phone in a different one. Going out into the main area, she couldn't help the laugh that broke free when she saw Bear on his back allowing Dakota to "attack" him from a perch on the shepherd's chest. Hearing the mistress, the big dog gently tumbled the pup back to the floor and rose with his tail waving. Snapping her fingers, Ashlyn summoned both dogs and led them to where their leashes were hanging. Bear instantly sat while Dakota required a reminder from the girl so she could attach their leads and head outside.

The trip to the park was uneventful other than people occasionally pausing to comment on the animals. Once there, the girl let the dogs roam at the ends of the leads so they could sniff and explore at will. There were surprisingly few kids on the playground but Ashlyn didn't mind as it meant more time for the canines to have without being mobbed. Sitting on a bench and watching the dogs, she felt a presence behind her and turned quickly to see a man joining her at the other end.

He was near her father's age, perhaps a couple of years younger, with dark blond hair and a goatee and dark brown eyes. He was dressed casually in clean jeans and a Polo shirt; overall, a mostly plain, nondescript man who would blend in with most any crowd. He nodded politely to her before pulling out a book and starting to read.

Something about him set off alarm bells in her head.

Ashlyn stood up and both dogs came to her soft whistle, Dakota gamboling along behind Bear happily. She was careful to not make eye contact with the stranger again as she led the dogs out of the park and turned down the street that would take them to the Thai restaurant Finch had requested. Once there, she sat at one of the tables out front and pulled out her phone to call in an order for them to bring out. As she waited, she worked with the puppy on commands and laughed when Bear did everything she said without hesitation while Dakota paused to think about each one for a moment before following through. She knew that eventually the youngster would be as quick as the shepherd, but he was still easily distractible and there were so many good smells around him that he couldn't focus.

The restaurant manager came out with her order and she handed him the money with a generous tip. This particular place had been very good to the little family and understanding (or at tolerant) of everyone's idiosyncrasies and worked with them as much as possible. He gave her a small bow which she returned and waved her off as the group started back down the street towards the library.

As they passed the park, she noticed the same man who had sat on the bench with her was still there, but he wasn't reading his book. Instead, his dark stare followed her as walked along. Completely creeped out by him, Ashlyn picked up her pace and hurried around the corner. Once she got back to the office, she put the weird encounter out of her mind as she went about setting up lunch.

The next day, Harold walked to the park with the girl and she didn't see the man who had been watching her, so she didn't say anything about it. The two relaxed and talked about different things as they watched the dogs interacting with the kids that clamored for their attention. John wasn't going to be back until late that evening so they decided to have lunch at a little bistro a few streets over that allowed pets to join their owners on the patio and ordered some food to go to have on hand for a late dinner.

He was there later the next day when she went by herself.

This time, however, he sat on the other side of the park and didn't seem to look in her direction at all, but she was still uncomfortable with just his presence in the same area. Deciding to leave so she could have some time with the dogs without him making her squirm, Ashlyn walked over to one of the local dog parks where she could take them off lead and let them run.

There were only a couple of other canines in the fenced area, so she unhooked the leashes and took off running across the grass towards a small shallow pool that had been set up in the enclosure for the dogs to wade in or drink from. Both animals immediately gave chase, barking happily for the chance to run and play outside in the warm sun and grass. Ashlyn reversed direction abruptly and Bear, taken by surprise, raced past her at first before whipping around and scrabbling back after her. Dakota, with his stronger herding instinct, kept trying to move her where he wanted her to go and got frustrated when she didn't do what he wanted. Finally, he just stopped in one place and fussed at her with a series of spectacular vocalizations only a Sheltie could achieve.

Tired from her exertions and laughing so hard at the pup's complaints, the teen collapsed onto the thick grass and hugged Bear when he reached her and swiped her face with a wet tongue. As he wandered off to explore, Dakota reached her, still grumbling and chattering, and crawled into her lap so he could get nose to nose with her. Ashlyn gave him a hug too and sent him tumbling after his big brother.

Leaning back on her elbows so she could still keep an eye on the dogs, the girl allowed herself to relax. This was a safe place to her mind, with the animals close by and other dog owners in attendance, she was able to feel more secure than she had at the park with the stranger watching her.

Behind her, a car slowly drove past the dog park as the blond man watched the lovely teenager play with her pets.

Getting a drink from the human's water fountain, Ashlyn glanced around and realized that everyone had left for dinner time. She had spoken with some of the other pet owners who had been wandering around monitoring their critters, getting a feel for the people who frequented the park. Everyone had been friendly, admiring of her pair, especially Bear's obedience and protectiveness toward both mistress and puppy. However, she didn't like being there alone, even with the Belgian's vigilance.

Both dogs were on the other side of the watering hole chasing one another as she made her way over to the gate where their leashes were hanging. Turning to face her pets, Ashlyn gave a shrill, sharp whistle that commanded them to return. Bear immediately started in her direction at a lope with Dakota following, then suddenly the big dog's demeanor completely changed. His hackles rose, teeth were bared, and he began barking and snarling as his speed increased to a ground devouring run.

Startled since the dog had never acted like that in her presence before, Ashlyn took an uneasy step backwards.

Straight into a pair of arms.

Before she could react, one hand covered her mouth to prevent a scream from escaping while a sudden sharp pain was felt in her shoulder. The roaring of the Belgian shepherd was the last thing she heard as she collapsed.


	14. Chapter 14

Part 14

John reached the top of the stairs to the office and paused for a moment; not a single sound could be heard besides the soft whirring of the computer. Surprised, he continued on and spotted his associate studying something on the monitor while sipping a mug of tea but there was no sign of his daughter or either canine.

"Harold? Where is everyone?"

Having been so immersed in his reading he hadn't realized he was no longer alone, Finch started violently and sloshed half his tea down the front of clothes. Bolting out of the chair as fast as his damaged body would allow, he hissed from the heat and shot a glare at his partner, "Really, John, would it have killed you to announce your presence?"

He raised one dark eyebrow at the older man, "I thought I just had, Harold."

"You know what I mean," the billionaire snapped in disgust as he limped to his bedroom so he could change out of the soggy suit.

John just smirked, "You still didn't answer my question."

"What question?" came the muffled demand from the other room.

He turned in a circle, eyes scanning the area, noting the open door to the teen's study room and the absence of the leashes, "Where is everyone?"

Finch reentered the room, tugging on a new jacket and carrying a different tie, "I would assume at the park if they are not in evidence. A blessing, if you ask me. Bear was one thing, but that puppy is constantly underfoot and into everything so anytime she removes their presence from the library it allows me the opportunity to actually get something productive done."

Dark blue eyes strayed to the windows during the man's complaint, noting that the sun was beginning to set, and he pulled out his cell phone. It rang several times before kicking over to voice mail and he pressed send again, only to have it repeat the same action. He turned to his friend and pointed at the computers, "Find where her cell is." He turned and bolted for the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Harold demanded as he scurried to the desk to do as ordered.

"To the park!" John yelled back as he slammed through the door and dove into his car.

He slowed as he reached the park closest to the library and his gaze swept the area but didn't see the girl. A woman carrying her tired toddler to her car paused as he pulled up alongside with an engaging smile, "Excuse me, ma'am, but I was wondering if you'd seen my daughter?" He showed her a picture on his phone of Ashlyn, "Fifteen, long black hair, green eyes? Usually has two dogs with her…"

"Oh! You must be Ashlyn's dad; such a beautiful girl she is." Shifting the little boy in her arms a bit she pointed down the street, "I haven't seen her today, but she had talked the other day about taking the dogs to the dog park so they could run. I'd suggest you start there."

"Thank you so much," John told her appreciatively as he gunned the engine and raced away.

Pulling up to the large fenced area, he knew instantly something was wrong. Plastered to the gate with hackles up was Bear while Dakota sat nearby whimpering fretfully. Looking around, in part thankful no one was there to call the pound on two possibly abandoned dogs, he hurried to the animals calling commands to the shepherd as he did. The dog, recognizing his Alpha, immediately stepped back and sat, whining and shaking in stress as John opened the gate and stepped through to kneel in front of him. He began soothing the dog immediately and held out his hand to the puppy that came over to huddle against his leg and cry. When his phone chimed, he let go of the pup long enough to tap his earpiece, "Harold, where is she?"

"Her cell signal is coming from a neighborhood several blocks from your current location, John. What's going on?"

"I don't know, but I'm at the dog park with Bear, who met me at the gate ready to kill someone, and Dakota. There's no one else here, including Ashlyn; and you know she'd never leave the dogs alone." He rose to his full height, lifting the pup with one hand and signaling Bear with the other to heel, "Give me an address, Finch." He grabbed the leashes from where they had been hung, took both animals to the car, and put them in the back seat.

"10859 West 64th. Shall I contact either of the detectives to meet you there?"

"No. They're not going to want any part of this by the time I'm done."

Ashlyn slowly opened her eyes and whimpered as her head pounded in response. She tried to bring her hand up to press against her aching skull and discovered it couldn't move courtesy of the ropes binding her to the arms of a large wooden chair. Blinking to bring the world back into focus, she found herself in a concrete basement completely devoid of any furnishings except for the chair she was seated in and a brand new bare mattress on the floor in the corner across from her. Her blood ran cold when she saw the padded manacles and short chains hooked to the wall at one end of the mattress. There was no doubt in her mind what those things were for and she desperately prayed for a way out of the situation she was suddenly in.

Looking around the bare room, she found that there were no windows at all and the floor above her was concrete as well with only a stairwell leading to a way out. The door the stairs met looked to be metal so any screams wouldn't make it outside of these horrifying walls. On one wall, there was another metal door that was partially open and she could see a tiny room with a toilet, shower, and sink, but nothing else.

Though her wrists and ankles were bound to the chair, she hadn't been gagged, but she knew that screaming would be futile since no one could hear her. So far, she was still fully clothed, but she was terrified that wouldn't remain likely for long. Shifting position as much as the ropes allowed, Ashlyn was stunned when she felt her cell phone, stuffed deep in a cargo pocket of her shorts, press against her leg. If she had that, there was a definite possibility of rescue provided one of the men realized she hadn't returned home and used the cell to track her location. All she had to do was make sure whoever had taken her didn't find it.

When the unlocking of the door echoed through the basement, she couldn't help the panic that swept over her and began desperately fighting the ropes holding her in place as tears ran in helpless rivers down her face. Ashlyn watched in horror as the man from the park, the same blond who had been watching her, slowly descended the steps after closing the door behind him.

He smiled when he saw her and shook his head, "You really should stop struggling, all you're going to do is bruise that beautiful skin of yours and we wouldn't want that to happen." He walked over to run one cool finger down her cheek and whisper, "Such a gorgeous thing you are. Skin as soft as the petals of a rose." He lifted a long lock of hair, "Black as night and so long a man could wrap himself in it." He forced her chin up so he could look into her huge eyes, "I've never seen eyes like yours. Such a pale shade of green, like grass frozen in ice, but still so warm."

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"Why? Because you belong with me, of course. Beauty such as yours was never meant to see the light of day. Too many people in this world would take and exploit you for money or fame. They would get you addicted to drugs or alcohol to make you pliant and dependent on them for everything while they sucked your loveliness away until you were an empty husk; then they'd throw you away like garbage." He stroked her face, "I won't do that. I will make sure you're well fed, clean, free of drugs and pollutants, and your exquisiteness will live on and on."

"How?" she whispered. "I need sunlight, I can't spend my life locked in a concrete cage, I would wither away and die."

"No you won't. You'll blossom with my devotion and care and your striking beauty will pass on to the children you'll give me." When he leaned down and untied her feet and then one of her hands, she lashed out without thinking, kicking his as hard as she could in the chest with both feet. He tumbled backwards several feet, hitting his head on the floor and knocking himself out.

Frantically, Ashlyn began struggling with the rope that still held her one arm down and just as she got it free, the man groaned softly. She stood up as he slowly rolled over onto his stomach and started to push himself up onto his hands and knees muttering under his breath. Knowing this would be her only chance to escape, the teen picked up the chair she'd been bound to and brought it crashing down across his head and upper back.

When he collapsed back to the floor, Ashlyn stumbled for the stairs, the drug he'd used to knock her out was still in her system and made her feel out of sorts and unsteady. There was no rail on the steps and she was forced to crawl up them, reaching desperately for the door when a hand latched onto her ankle and she screamed.

Leaving Dakota in the car so he was out of harm's way, John took Bear with him as he slowly entered the house, moving in complete silence with his gun drawn. As he moved from room to room, clearing each one carefully and not finding what he was looking for, he hissed in frustration. Suddenly, the Belgian's head snapped up and cocked from side to side before he moved without hesitation to an open closet door and started pawing at the carpet. Commanding the big dog back, Reese pulled back the rug and saw the door.

Bracing her hands on the wall on either side of her, Ashlyn kicked out at her captor desperately, trying to knock him off the stairs, trying to keep him from pulling her back down into the hell he'd planned for her, trying to stay alive. He was on his knees several steps below her as he grabbed her free foot, a vicious, victorious grin spreading over his face as he yanked her resisting body down, shoving her legs wide and to either side of him as he pressed his lower body against hers. Her screams rose with the terror building in her chest when he reached for the neckline of tee shirt to tear it from her.

When the door above them opened, the would-be rapist straightened up to look into the eyes of death for a brief moment before a hole appeared in his forehead and he tumbled backwards without another sound.

Ashlyn crabbed walked backwards up the stairs away from the pit of horror and shrieked when a powerful arm swept around her waist and pulled her from the floor of the closet. She was deposited on a bed and a large form ordered something in Dutch and she suddenly had a dog in her lap. She could only see the man from the back as he made his way down the hidden stairs to check his kill, but she would recognize that commanding presence anywhere. She held onto Bear, shaking with hysteria, as she waited for her father to return for her.

When he reappeared, his dark blue eyes were cold and his face set in harsh, forbidding lines; until he saw his daughter. His gun had already been holstered so his hands were free to catch her when she hit John's chest and his arms were tight around her slender form as he drew her closer into his sheltering embrace.

"It's alright now, baby, he can't hurt you ever again. I've got you, sweetheart, I've got you safe in my arms," he continued to murmur soft reassurances to her until she was able to let go long enough for him to check her over for injuries. Finding only scraps and bruises on her arms and legs along with a small puncture mark on her neck, he drew her back into his chest and held her.

Finally, the buzzing of their phones caused them to move again and John wrapped one arm around his child as he led her and Bear out to the car. He put the dog in the backseat so the shepherd could hang over her shoulder and nuzzle her reassuringly and, once he had her buckled in, placed the distressed Dakota on her lap to help distract her until he could get her home. As soon as he had the car in gear, she reached over with her left hand to take hold of his right in a death grip while she hugged the puppy with the other.

Stopping at a red light, he reached up to tap his earpiece so he could shut his partner up for the few minutes he needed, "I have her; we're on our way back." He then hung up on Finch not really caring if it pissed the billionaire off or not. Turning his head to look at the girl he softly asked, "What did he do, baby? Did he hurt you?"

Her hold on his hand tightened further, "He hadn't gotten that far, but he was going to. He wanted to keep me, lock me away for his own personal amusement, to force me to have children for him. Claimed he was shielding me from a world that would use and abuse me. He untied my legs and one hand and I kicked him as hard as I could. I got my other arm loose and he started to get up. I hit him with the chair he'd tied me to and ran for the stairs. He grabbed my ankles and was trying to pull me back down. That's when you opened the door." Ashlyn met his eyes, "Did you kill him?"

"Yes."

"Good." She pressed kiss to the muzzle between their seats and received a swipe from Bear in return. "I'm glad you found them and they were alright."

John nodded as the light changed and he sped for the library, needing to get her out of the car and back into the safety of his arms. He'd come so close to losing her to a depraved maniac and he never wanted to experience that again.

Harold was watching their progress on the traffic cameras as they made the return trip so he was already at the door when they pulled in, holding it open so Bear could bounce through after a cursory greeting and watching carefully as John opened the passenger's side door and retrieve his offspring. She appeared to be unharmed, but he knew that looks could be deceiving and he needed to know for sure. He felt supremely guilty for driving her and the dogs out of the office because of his need for solitude; what had happened had been his fault.

The computer genius followed the pair up the steps, John keeping one arm around his shaking child the whole way. When they reached the top, she looked up at him with huge, haunted eyes, "I need to take a shower. Please. I just feel so filthy."

He pulled her close again, "Alright, little one, you go on; we'll be right out here the whole time." She returned his hug, which he took as a positive note, and started down the hallway to the room they both kept extra clothes in if needed, "Ashlyn." The girl turned to look back at him questioningly. "Don't lock the door this time, please. If you need me, I'd rather not waste time breaking it down."

She gave him a faint smile and nodded, "'Kay." Disappearing in the bedroom, she gathered up a complete change of clothing and hurried to the bathroom where she turned the water on as hot as she could stand it. She wasn't surprised that he knew she still locked the door when she showered, though she was positive he'd never actually attempted to open the door so _how_ he knew was a mystery.

As soon as he heard the water come on, John faced his friend, "Harold, you need to get over the guilt complex right now."

"I…wait…what? How did you…?" He was so taken off guard he could only stutter parts of sentences out.

"I can see it in your eyes. You may have asked her to take the dogs for a walk, but you didn't know there was a lunatic out there stalking her. If it hadn't been today, it would have been some time; he'd apparently been planning it for a while judging from what little Ashlyn told me on the way home. So you need to get over it. Now."

Finch couldn't meet his associate's dark blue gaze, "I'm sorry, John. I can't help but feel that it was my fault. I prefer my solitude, treasure it immensely, and having you, her, the dogs, anyone here sometimes brings about feelings of being overwhelmed by multitudes after a while."

"I understand that, Harold, of all the people in this world, I'm probably the one who does the most. But right now, I have a little girl in the other room that is a ticking time bomb ready to explode at a moments notice and I have to be ready for that. I can't be worrying about your feelings of remorse over something that's out of your control when I need to be able to help her deal with what happened." His eyes kept straying down the hall, listening to the water run, "All three of us are going to be paying a visit to Dr. Patti in the very near future and she's going to earn her pay with this one."

"Shall I call her and schedule an appointment for the first thing she has available?" Harold offered.

"Please, and thank you," John left the older man alone in the office area as he hurried in his daughter's footsteps to the bedroom to change into something that was going to be more comfortable in dealing with the fallout that was to come. When he came out, he could hear the water still running and the soft sounds of her crying filtering through.

He couldn't stand the weeping and knocked quietly on the door, "Ashlyn? Sweetheart, can I come in? I can't stand hearing you cry, you're tearing me apart out here."

In the bathroom, the teenager sat, fully dressed, under the pounding spray of hot water and let the tears flow. When she heard her father at the door, she knew she needed to get herself under some control. Pushing herself upright, she called out hoarsely, "Hang on, I just need a minute." She heard a soft thudding against the door and pictured him banging his head on the other side as he waited.

As she was hastily stripping out of her wet clothes and changing, John was indeed beating his head on the door as he softly counted. When he reached fifty, he called out, "You're ten seconds away from the minute you asked for, baby."

Ashlyn nearly choked, unable to believe he was actually counting down the seconds, "Better make it three minutes, then."

He sighed, "Three minutes total or two minutes more?"

He heard a thump as something was thrown against the other side of the door, "Don't be cute, dad, I'm trying hard not to have a complete breakdown here, you know."

"Me, too," he murmured painfully.

Hearing his tormented whisper, the girl scrambled into dry clothing, tossing her wet ones into the tub to deal with later and yanked open the door, nearly falling straight into her father's embrace. Holding onto him as tightly as he did her, Ashlyn let the tears fall again. John simply swept her up into his arms and carried her to one of the sitting rooms that had been furnished by Harold with large comfy chairs. He sank into the seat of one with her cradled across his legs, tucking her head under his chin, and just held her while she sobbed.

When the billionaire came to check on them, he found them ensconced in the plushy chair, the child still crying into her father's chest while tears slipped unheeded down his own handsome face. Some of the shock had set in and both were shivering slightly between that, the coolness of the room, and the long wet hair tangled around them. Limping over to a storage cabinet, Harold lifted out a large soft blanket which he carried over to the pair and carefully tucked in around them to whispered words of thanks. He then went to the bathroom, picked up a dry towel, and returned to the room where he seated himself beside John. Gently, he pulled the teen's long black mane of hair loose so that it flowed back over her father's protective arm and down the side of the chair so he could begin the process of trying to dry it somewhat.

Ashlyn's crying picked back up again when he started on his self-appointed task and he stopped instantly, "I'm so sorry, Ashlyn, I was trying to be of assistance, not cause further consternation."

Struggling to get some control, the girl looked over her shoulder at him, "No, Uncle Harold, you're not upsetting me. I just feel so taken care of and protected and I can't help but cry. I always had to be the strong one for mom and me so it's surprising to have people who are willing and able to take care of me for once." She shuddered in remembered terror and was held tighter as the computer genius returned to rubbing her hair, "I let myself get complacent on my outings with the dogs and then didn't tell either of you about seeing that man at the park or that he was watching me. If I had, this never would have happened."

John cupped her face with one large hand, "Stop, Ashlyn. You can't keep thinking about what you could have done differently, all you can do is let go, move forward, and make sure that if you feel uncomfortable with anything again in the future like this, you come and tell us immediately. You so rarely left your house growing up and were so focused on your schooling and staying out of Arndt's way that you never had to deal with some of the horrible things that go on in the world. There are evil people out there and I never want to go through what we did again. If I could, I would wrap you up in my arms and keep you safe at home all the time, but then I wouldn't be doing you any favors."

She leaned her forehead into his, "Could we do that for a couple of days, just until I get my equilibrium back?"

"Do you honestly think that I'm going anywhere without you until further notice?"

Harold cleared his throat softly, "Well, I doubt that either of you would like company in the bathroom, but I understand your need for closeness right now. If you'd prefer to return to the loft for the next few days to recuperate…"

Dark eyes fixated on Finch instantly, "If we do, you're coming with us. I don't think that any of us need to be left alone right now. If nothing else, Ashlyn's kidnapping may bring up memories of your own and if that's the case, you need someone nearby."

The older man thought about it for a few moments, "Well, your apartment is really only set up for the two of you and staying here at the library for an extended period of time is not exactly cozy."

"But you have an idea of what would be, Harold?"

"As a matter of fact, I believe I do. Let me make a couple of calls and get things arranged. We should be able to pick up things for all of us for a few days and then go someplace much more comfortable in the morning." He rose, dropping the towel he'd been using over the girl's head teasingly and left to take care of things.


	15. Chapter 15

Part 15

Following the directions given to him, John pulled up to a gate and tapped in a code, driving through when it opened soundlessly before him. This particular house was more secluded than the one they'd gone to after retrieving the girl the first time but it was also smaller with a very large fenced in back yard that the dogs could run in freely.

After parking in front of the house, the military man got out, popped the trunk and retrieved two suitcases while Finch limped up to the entrance and unlocked the door. Ashlyn let Bear out off-lead but retained her hold on the wiggling Dakota until they got inside where she could let him down. Looking around, she smiled to see that there was nothing on Sheltie level for the pup to chew and all cords had been carefully tucked behind things even he couldn't squeeze into.

Quirking his eyebrows at the teen, Harold commented, "I had my team come in last night and 'puppy proof' the house so you didn't have to spend all your time chasing after him when he's inside." He went to the large sliding glass door overlooking a roomy patio and grassy yard, "They should enjoy this very much." He stepped through the door, Ashlyn following him, and both dogs raced out into the yard to play.

The teen smiled at their antics and watched them for a few moments, fighting back the lurking shadows in her mind of being in a similar place just yesterday when she was grabbed. When a large form suddenly loomed up behind her, Ashlyn couldn't prevent the cry that escaped her any more than she could stop her body from lurching away. Bear responded instantly to her fear by hurtling back across the open expanse to her defense.

John caught his daughter by the shoulders before she could get too far, spun her around to face him, and called her name sharply to bring her back to the present. By the time the Belgian reached the patio, she had snapped out of her flashback and her father was able to issue the command to stand down to the dog before he attacked someone. Burrowing into the big man's chest for comfort and reassurance, Ashlyn worked on taking deep breaths without hyperventilating.

"You're safe, little one, I've got you. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have come up behind you like that." The trio had spent a restless night at the library, the two men ensconced in cushy chairs as they dozed off and on while Ashlyn rested in her father's arms, waking every half hour or so when the nightmares closed in. Dr. Patti was due to visit the house later that afternoon for a session with all of them.

"I really need to stop doing this," the girl muttered in irritation.

"Doing what?" John asked.

"Jumping at everything that moves, bawling my eyes out on a daily basis, clinging to you like a three year old afraid of a thunderstorm…I'm fifteen years old for goodness sake, I should be past all this! Why can't I just be normal?"

John just hugged her tightly, "Ashlyn, you've not had a normal life, you're not a normal child. The upbringing you had was unconventional to say the least and your intelligence sets you apart from what's considered the norm. You were just kidnapped yesterday and he would have raped you if I hadn't gotten there when I did; I think you have the right to curl up in a corner and scream your heart out if that's what you need. But if you choose to do that, be assured that I will be sitting in that corner with you, holding onto you until you're ready to come out."

She shook her head as she clung to his trim waist, "You should have married and raised a family of your own rather than inheriting a damaged teenager with too much baggage."

"Don't say that!" John pulled her away so he could look at her, dark blue eyes flashing with fire, "Never say that!" He dropped to one knee in front of her, hands firm on her elbows, "My only regret is not finding you sooner. You are my daughter and I love you."

"I love you, too, dad," she whispered as he rose and wrapped her in his embrace.

Watching the pair, Harold surreptitiously wiped his eyes. In many ways he envied John the fact that he had a child and their closeness, but at the same time, he was secretly glad he'd always taken the strongest precautions to not have any offspring to cause chaos to his orderly life. Having this pair intruding on his daily life was more than enough, as well as the son of his former business partner popping in every now and then. Ashlyn was a delight most of the time with her intelligence and father's quick wit, and John's presence had been vital to him many times during their association. The dogs, on the other hand, he could do without. Too much hair, slobber, and noise in his tidy and methodical world.

The sound of a buzzer going off in the house set the dogs barking and interrupted the quiet moment. Finch limped inside while John stroked a reassuring hand over his daughter's silky hair and led her in with a light touch to meet with Dr. Patti.

Since there were no neighbors to worry about overhearing anything and it allowed the dogs to gambol in the yard, they decided to meet out on the patio. It had been a grueling session for all of them. Harold was forced to relive his feelings of helplessness from when Root had grabbed him; John had to deal with the fact that his daughter was vulnerable in so many ways and he'd very nearly lost her because of some psycho; and Ashlyn, who had already dealt with enough traumas in her life, now had more to get through. The doctor had struggled a bit at first to get them all to open up about what they were actually feeling from the kidnapping and near rape, but once she had help in forcing the issue, the ticking time bomb John had known was there exploded.

The teenager was furious with her adopted uncle for his feelings of guilt and kept telling him he needed to get over it; after all, he hadn't forced her take the dogs out, let alone to that particular place. She was even angrier with herself for not telling the men about the stalker and thus leaving herself wide open to be taken. On top of that, she believed that she should have fought harder in order to get away so that her father hadn't been forced to not only come to her rescue, again, but also had to kill a man.

Wallowing in guilt was something Finch was naturally good at; he'd been doing it for years, ever since his partner Nathan had been killed. He was by nature reclusive and his solitary preferences meant he didn't make or keep friends very often. He had employees that he paid to do certain jobs, but other than John, he didn't get close to any of them anymore. It didn't help that he was more intelligent than most and sometimes found it difficult to communicate with others.

John sat back in his chair, listening to the various exchanges going back and forth, not really saying much as the other two avoided expressing their frustrations. He had purposefully positioned himself in the chair between the two, instinct telling him that was the place he needed to be and he prided himself on listening to the little voice within. It had saved his hide on many occasions. When Harold became disturbed with some of the questions the doctor was directing at him and started to rise in preparation to storming out, Reese fixed him with a hard stare that pushed back in his seat faster than anything else in the world could have.

"If you don't want to answer the questions, Harold, just tell her so. Don't stomp off to the house in a huff."

"I'm a grown man, John, if I choose to leave, I may do so."

"Yes, Harold, you are a grown man and you can leave anytime you want. However, you're never going to get over things if you don't face them. Like a grown man. If you run from this now, you're going to be running from it for the rest of your life. Is that what you really want? To rabbit away like a coward instead of facing it?"

His purposeful needling got the results he both expected and knew were needed when the billionaire staggered to his feet and exploded at him, "How dare you call me a coward when you have no inkling of some of the things I've gone through in my life! You have no idea what I've faced and overcome!"

The big man crossed one leg over the other as if unconcerned with the man raging at him, "You're right, Harold, I don't know. And why is that?"

"Because it's none of your business, that's why. All you needed to do was answer your damn phone when I called to give you the next number and take care of things. I didn't ask you to weasel your way into my personal life and make things more complicated!"

"Complicated?" John asked. "You mean nasty things like friendship, feelings, family, a sense of belonging and accomplishment when we get a job done?"

"Yes! I mean…I…no…you're twisting…my…I…" he sank back into his chair and buried his face in his hands, "damn it, John, I really detest it when you do things like this."

"Things like what, Harold? Talking, communicating, and opening dialogue so things don't fester inside you again?"

"Oh, just shut up, John."

"Of course, Harold." The younger man smirked over at Patti who was fighting to keep from laughing outright.

"Perhaps you should have gone into psychiatry, John, you do seem to be so very good at it," she commented when she had herself under control.

He shook his head, "Nah. I'm not much of a people-person."

All three of them were startled when Harold Finch, reclusive, solemn, quiet Harold, suddenly reared back in his chair and laughed. Not just a chuckle as he was best known for, but an outright belly laugh so hard he had tears running down his face. When he finally got himself in some semblance of control, he mopped his cheeks with a handkerchief, still chortling, "Oh, my. That was priceless, John, and thank you for it. People-person, indeed."

The former agent just smiled at him, pleased to have gotten such a reaction so quickly after having the man screaming at him. He turned to look at his daughter and found her staring at him with wide eyes. John reached over and offered his hand to her, "What is it, Ashlyn?"

She accepted the grip and held on tightly as if afraid he would pull away from her, "Why aren't you talking?"

"I have been talking, Ash. Didn't you just hear Harold blow up at me for talking to him?"

She shook her head, "That's not what I mean. I know that I'm completely freaked out by what happened and that Uncle Harold was feeling guilty thinking he was partially at fault, which he wasn't," she gave said uncle a fierce look. "But you've hardly said anything about what's going on in your head about all this, other than wanting to never let me out of your sight again. You need to talk, too."

"You needed me more, baby. I can't let go of my feelings and still be able to take care of you and give what you need from me."

"If you think that way, John," Patti stated, "then you're either not going to face it at all and let it rankle, or something small is going to set you off and someone's going to get hurt."

He squeezed the small hand holding his in reassurance before letting go and rising to pace the patio like a lithe, powerful panther. He shoved his fingers through his short hair as he allowed his emotions free rein for once.

"I can't say that I'm angry over what happened because that would be too tame a word for what I'm feeling. Furious, overwhelmed, enraged, livid, petrified, none of them can truly convey the proper emotion." His strides were long and carried him from one end of the patio to the other and back swiftly, "None of these feelings are directed at either of you; they are completely aimed at me and the bastard who dared to kidnap my daughter. I should have been there for Ashlyn so he never had the chance to take her and put her through such torture, but at the same time, I can't wrap her in a blanket and hide her away someplace safe so nothing bad can touch her again. Harold feels guilty for needing his space and I should be more aware of his wish for solitude and not leaving him to care for my child and a pair of dogs he didn't need cluttering up the office."

Finch rose at that and caught his friend's arm to stop him momentarily, "John, you can't take responsibility for my failings. I'm the one who needs to work on socialization skills and I can't do that without being put in the appropriate situations."

The other man shook his head, "I can take responsibility for putting you in the position I did without making sure you were comfortable, prepared, and willing to do it."

"I care very much for your daughter, John, though I could do without the dogs at times, and she has become an important part of my life, just as you have. I need to have more patience with both them and myself and be willing to ask for assistance when needed rather than letting things get to me until I can't take it any more."

Reese sighed softly and nodded acceptance. His friend sat back down as he gathered his thoughts again and turned to his offspring, "Ashlyn, you are the most important person in my life and I'm sorry that I wasn't there to protect you." He held up his hand when she started to protest, "I know it wasn't something that could have been helped, but it's still the way I feel and the doctor is big into talking about what I feel."

Patti nodded, "That's good, John, you need to get those emotions out so they can be looked at and talked though."

He knelt down in front of the teen's chair and she scooted forward to be closer, "Sweetheart, you know how much I love you despite the short time we've had together." She nodded as she gazed steadily into his deep blue eyes. John traced a light finger down one soft cheek, "I would die for you without any uncertainty, but more than that, I would kill for you. I proved that yesterday when I saw what that creature was about to do to you. I didn't hesitate to put a bullet in his brain and I would do it again and again if I had to. I know that I can't always keep you safe, but I will do my best." He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and bowing his head until it almost touched her knees, "I don't want you to live in fear or be in a constant state of paranoia like Harold and I are, but I have to know that you're able to be more aware of your surroundings. Something like this can't happen again because if it did, I don't know that it would have the same outcome and I couldn't live with that."

The girl slid off the chair and wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hold, "I can promise that I will do my best, dad. I will work with you on observation skills and what to look for in people so that when I'm away from you I'm as safe as possible. I love you so much and I don't want to see you hurting like you are now."

Harold rose from his seat to move closer to them and placed a warm, affectionate hand on each shoulder, even allowing Ashlyn to twine an arm around his waist as she drew him into the family circle. The doctor smiled as she watched the pair take comfort in each other and extend that comfort to the billionaire. Things weren't perfect, but then, life never was. This group was well on their way to recovery.


	16. Chapter 16

Part 16

The rest of the week and weekend was spent relaxing at the private residence with one more visit from the doctor. The trio talked more openly than before and John started teaching his daughter self-defense and a host of other skills he wanted her proficient in. Harold joined them in part, mainly just to observe, but he drew the line at anything weapon related. He had, in fact, been horrified when his partner appeared after breakfast one morning with a gun.

"Honestly, John, do you carry that…thing…everywhere with you?"

"No, Harold, not everywhere. I don't like for my guns to get wet so I rarely take them into a swimming pool with me. Plus it tends to be difficult to hide in a Speedo and I get some strange looks."

Ashlyn nearly choked on her juice between her father's comment and the appalled look on the other man's face. The military man swatted her on the back to help her breathe properly again while giving her a secret smile. He led her outside to the patio with the gun and walked her through the parts, dismantling, reassembling, cleaning, loading (with blanks), and sighting. Only when she was completely at ease handling the deadly weapon would he actually allow her fire it, and that wouldn't be for several days.

The girl spent time on the computer looking over information on the various guns she knew her father had in his personal arsenal and asked him numerous questions as she did. He was pleased at her interest and the wealth of knowledge she'd accumulated in a short time. Thanks to her perfect memory, she could dismantle and reassemble a gun perfectly, though at no where near the speed he could, but that would come in time.

When they returned home, he sat with her and the rest of his vast armory and went over each one carefully so she understood the use and care they required. Prudently, they refrained from informing Harold of their lessons in order to avoid a lecture, or worse. They'd been home nearly a week when father and daughter made a trip outside the city to a place he could teach her to actually shoot the guns she'd been learning so much about.

Laying out each of the guns he'd brought along with the ammo, John looked at his interested child, "Pick one and we'll start with it."

She looked them over carefully before choosing a .357 magnum with a four inch barrel. He let her check it over to make sure it was clean and ready for use (not that any of his guns _weren't_ ready for instantaneous use), then had her load it. She placed each bullet into the cylinder precisely and pushed it closed. Ashlyn had asked him recently while watching something on TV about why he never used the fancy move the star of the show did with snapping the cylinder shut while holding the grip and twisting the wrist so the gun did the work.

"Several reasons, little one. The bullets can unseat and cause it to jam, not good when you're in a fire-fight. It can cause the mechanism to wear out faster. And, if you're not taking proper precautions, when you snap it like that, you can actually pull the trigger when you don't mean to."

Keeping the safety on and the gun pointed down, she looked at John expectantly, "What's next?"

He nodded approval at her before leading the way to where he had targets set up for her to shoot at. Ashlyn took her stance with arms extended and both hands on the gun, sighting down the barrel as he'd taught her. Reese stood behind her and placed his hands over hers on the grip.

"Fire once," he told her.

Ashlyn pulled the trigger.

After she peeled herself off her father's chest and he stopped laughing at the look of shock on her face, John removed the hands he'd place protectively over her own. Knowing she wasn't prepared for the recoil of the gun, he'd purposefully taken the position behind her so he could prevent her hands from flying up or losing hold of the magnum when it fired. When the force pushed her backwards, instead of landing on her back or stumbling badly, he'd cushioned her body with his own by bracing for the impact. He was a firm believer that one had to experience the pulling of the trigger to fully comprehend the power of the killing device being fired.

Looking down at the gun, then up at the big man, Ashlyn shook her head, "You told me about the recoil and I read about it, but I never expected it to be so strong. I've watched you shoot several different guns and your hand and arm never seem to jolt."

He smoothed her hair back with a loving caress, "I've been shooting far longer than you've even been alive, sweetheart, I know what to expect and how to minimize the backlash. You'll learn in time."

They retook their same positions and John had her fire again. This time she was more prepared for the action of the gun and didn't end up falling back into the man, though she still had some problems with keeping the gun level once she pulled the trigger. He adjusted her grip slightly and gave her some pointers as he had the girl continue shooting. After about half an hour, she was enough at ease with the magnum that he decided to have her move on.

Over the next couple of hours, Ashlyn worked on firing different guns, both handguns and rifles. John was very pleased with her accuracy in shooting with the rifles, commenting she was a chip off the block in that particular area. He planned on bringing her out here once or twice a week until she was comfortable with all aspects of the weapons and could hit her chosen target at least 80% of the time.

One morning, John's cell phone rang while the pair was having a relaxing breakfast at home. He excused himself from the table and went to his office to answer it, greeting the caller with a quiet, "Good morning, Your Honor, how are you and your son doing?"

Judge Samuel Gates smiled at the sound of the soft gravelly voice on the other end of the phone. John Reese had helped him get his son back after the boy had been kidnapped and he owed the man a debt he could never repay. "We're both doing well, thanks to you, and I have the paperwork you requested, but I'm going to need a couple of signatures before we can make things official."

"Of course, I expected that there would be something that needed signing along the way."

"Would you prefer to meet at the courthouse or someplace a little less…filled with officers of the law?"

Reese chuckled, "I was thinking perhaps lunch, if you're free. You could meet the child you're placing in my evil clutches."

It was the judge's turn to laugh at that; he knew that when it came to kids, the military man had a definite soft spot and he could only imagine the protectiveness he would have with a child of his own, "I can do lunch, where would you like to meet?"

Once arrangements were made, he returned to the kitchen and found the teen cleaning up the dishes from their meal having placed his in a warming oven. After retrieving his meal, he beckoned her over to join him, "That was a call from the judge I've had working on your official adoption papers. He has everything, he just needs a signature or two, so I though we could meet with him for lunch so we can finalize it. How does that sound?"

Ice green eyes went wide with eager excitement, "Really? That sounds great!"

Pulling his phone back out, he sent a text off to Finch so he was aware of their plans for the day and received a reply back wishing them luck and a request for an update later.

They arrived first to the quiet little restaurant and were escorted to a booth in a corner that gave John a complete view of the room. They gave the waitress drink orders before Ashlyn excused herself to disappear to the bathroom and the big man settled in to wait.

When the teen came back out, her father spotted her instantly and watched her progress until she was just a couple of tables away before he rose. The man seated in the booth across from him quickly followed suit and his jaw literally dropped when he caught sight of the stunningly beautiful teenager.

John just smirked, "Judge Samuel Gates, my daughter Ashlyn."

The other man offered his hand to the vision before him, "Ashlyn, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Hello, Judge Gates, I'm happy to meet you, too; and thank you for helping us with all this."

"Your father did a great service for me some time back and I owe him for the life of my own child; the least I could do was give him this gift."

Reese allowed the girl to slip into the booth first before lowering himself to sit beside her as the judge joined them, "I don't help people so they'll owe me any debts, though it does come in handy every now and then."

Their server arrived with drinks for everyone, took their orders, and vanished again leaving them to go over the paperwork Gates produced from his briefcase. The judge pointed out a few things as they went along, "You will be officially named Jonathon Michael Shepherd, father of Ashlyn Caitriana Shepherd. Since her birth certificate only named her mother, it wasn't much of an issue to have you put down as the biological father." He pointed to several spots, "I just need you to sign here, here, and there, and then initial there and here."

Once John had done so, Samuel added his signature to various places and looked up with a smile, "All I need to do is file this and everything's official." He extended his hand across the table, "Congratulations, John, it's a girl."

A huge genuine smile lit the harshly handsome face and brightened his deep set blue eyes as he accepted the hand, "Thank you, Judge, for everything." He turned that smile to his daughter who was grinning back at him and burrowed into his chest. John lowered his head to press a kiss on top of her black mane and whispered, "I love you, my sweet baby girl."

"I love you, too, dad."

Gates just sat back and smiled, pleased to have truly made a difference in someone's life for the better for once. Their waitress arrived shortly after with their food and the small group talked quietly as they ate.

The judge left first, hurrying back to the courthouse so he could get the paperwork filed before anything delayed it. The former agent paid for their meal, adding in a nice tip for their discreet server who had taken care of them without hovering. He rose from the booth, offering a hand to his daughter as she scooted over, and tucked her under his arm once she was on her feet.

"So, I feel like celebrating," he stated. The girl groaned softly. "What?" he demanded.

"I know what that means."

"What?"

"It means that you want to take me someplace expensive and spend more money on things I don't need," she informed him.

John grinned as he opened the door to the restaurant for her, "Now why would you think I'd do that?"

She looked down at the pretty, dainty watch on her wrist, "Perhaps because the last time you felt like 'celebrating' you came home with this, a new IPod, an IPad, and a state of the art laptop to replace my old one?"

"All necessities," he announced as he followed her through the entrance. He gathered her back to her original position against his side and kissed her forehead when she looked up at him disbelievingly, "What can I say? I love you and want you to have everything your little heart could possibly desire."

"John?"

His head snapped around and a natural impulse had him moving his own body between the girl and the person approaching even as his hand closed around the gun under his jacket. Ashlyn didn't hesitate or try to fight him; instead she allowed her father to place her in a position he could protect and defend.

By the time his brain caught up to his instincts, Reese had connected the voice to a name, "Carter. What brings you to this part of town?" Despite it being someone he knew and trusted on a certain level, he stood his ground with one hand behind him lightly gripping his daughter's arm so she stayed put.

"I was over at the courts building and thought I'd pick up something for lunch at the shop across the street when I saw you." Joss Carter tried to catch a glimpse of the person behind him while he was trying just as hard to prevent it. She'd been absolutely shocked when she spotted him across the way with what looked like a young woman cuddled up to him and thought she'd heard him say something about love? "John, do you need some help with something?"

"No, Carter, but thanks for the offer." He shifted subtly as he released Ashlyn's arm. She took a hesitant step backwards away from the protection of his powerful body and John instantly moved with her, effectively blocking the detective from actually seeing the teen while carefully and unobtrusively 'herding' her away from the situation.

Ashlyn knew that Carter was one of the cops her father had helping him at times, but he had taken great pains since bringing her home to keep her out of any direct contact with either detective. Ducking her head to help prevent the other female from seeing her, Ashlyn gradually made her way backwards, following her father's gentle lead, until they reached the corner of the building. Once there, she whirled away and hurried down the sidewalk to the parking lot around back.

"I hate to tell you this, John, but the person who was behind you just took off down the street," Carter groused, though she knew he was well aware of when and where the other had gone. She hated it when she didn't have the full story on anything, and this particular man was extremely frustrating when it came to details, especially if it was personal.

"That's good; I'd hate to think I they couldn't take a hint."

"You know, you are the most irritating man I have ever had to deal with in my life; and that's saying something considering my line of work and the people I come in contact with!" She planted her hands on her hips and demanded point blank, "Who was that, what were you doing with them, and why were you so lovey-dovey? Have you finally gone and gotten yourself a girlfriend?"

Everything in Reese went still and his dark eyes became flat and cold, "I have things to take care of, Detective Carter. Have a nice day." With that icy response, he pivoted sharply and walked away, stalking along the side of the restaurant as he struggled to control his fury. The woman had no right to question him about his personal life, especially when he'd made it obvious he didn't want her involved. Part of him was glad she hadn't actually gotten a good enough look at the teenager to realize age or relation, but mostly he was just angry at her intrusion during what had been one of the most important moments of his life.

As he rounded the building to the lot, John checked out of the corner of his eye for the police officer's location and saw that she was still standing where he'd left her, jaw agape at his abrupt departure. When he approached the car and saw that the passenger's side was empty, every instinct went on high alert again as he rapidly scanned the area. His offspring had an eidetic memory, but Reese was a master at spotting discrepancies in his surroundings. His brain automatically catalogued what should or shouldn't be in his vicinity and led him to the most logical conclusion swiftly.

Moving towards the dumpster, which was pulled away from the brick wall about a foot, he softly called out, "Ashlyn, it's alright. You can come out."

At first there was silence, but he was serenity personified, then a slight scraping noise could be heard as the girl eased her way out from the protection of her hiding place. Pale eyes wide with anxiety darted around as she crept slowly into the open. When she didn't see anyone other than her patient parent waiting for her, she hurried to his comforting side for reassurance. She'd known that she needed to stay out of sight and that he would be able to find her wherever she hid.

John swept her under his shoulder again and guided her directly to the car to place her safely inside before striding swiftly around to the driver's side and climbing in. Once they were on the road he glanced over at her, "I'm sorry about that, sweetheart; I never expected to run into Carter. You did good reading the situation and getting away from it."

She shifted in her seat so she could see him better, "Why don't you want her to meet me? I thought she was someone who helps you and Uncle Harold with the numbers and you trusted her."

"Other than you and Harold, I don't fully trust anyone, especially with knowledge of your existence. One of the absolute last things I want to have happen is the wrong person find out about you and try to hurt you. I couldn't live with myself if someone did that, particularly if they did it to get back at me for something."

Ashlyn nodded, "I understand, but what happens if we need one of the detectives for a case and you have no other choice? Wouldn't it be better to introduce me in a controlled environment, under your terms, rather than in the middle of all hell breaking loose? There were a couple of times when Uncle Harold was kidnapped that I could have dealt with one of them rather than you."

Stopping at a red light, Reese looked over at his daughter, "Sometimes you're too intelligent for my own good, little one. I'll think about it. There are pros and cons to both sides of this coin and I don't want to make any decisions without weighing them both carefully."


	17. Chapter 17

Part 17

John didn't forget his desire to celebrate the official acknowledgement of his fatherhood and Ashlyn ended up getting yet another present. Only this one didn't send her over the edge fussing at him for the expense. Instead, Harold completely freaked out when the military man handed his beloved child a very heavy gaily wrapped box with a huge velvet ribbon.

Inside was a gun.

"What in heaven's name were you thinking, John, that you went out and purchased your _fifteen year old daughter_ a weapon?! Seriously? Of all the mementoes you could have chosen to commemorate the occasion and you decide on firearms?"

The big man was seated on a couch with said daughter snuggled up against his side as she admired her gift, watching his friend pace haltingly back and forth as he raved, "What better way to mark such a milestone than with a gift that will never be forgotten, Harold? I'll bet of all the presents I've picked up for her, this is the one Ashlyn will always remember best."

"It's completely inappropriate, John!"

As tempting as it was to simply point out that he was the girl's father, not Finch, Reese held his tongue, not wanting to hurt the other man, "She's an excellent shot, Harold, and has proved herself capable and knowledgeable with a variety of guns."

"I don't care if she's the preeminent sniper on the planet, she's only a child and this is not a toy!"

Replacing the clip she'd popped to check ammo with a sharp snap and chambering a round expertly, Ashlyn rose to face the outraged man, "_She_ is right here and doesn't particularly care to be talked about as if she isn't." Double checking to make sure the safety was on, the girl secured the weapon in the ankle holster John had provided and set it on the coffee table, "I'm sorry you don't approve of the gun, Uncle Harold, but I'm actually glad dad got it for me. I don't need more jewelry, clothes, or computer stuff…"

"You don't _need_ a gun," the billionaire snapped.

"I didn't say that I did," she continued calmly as she stood toe to toe with him, "and I prefer to know how to use a weapon safely, as well as have access to one, should the need arise. This self-appointed task you do with the numbers isn't a safe and easy job, it's dangerous and sometimes it follows you home. If I'm prepared, I'm less of a target and less of a liability is something happens."

John had to admire how far the girl had come since she first came to live with him. She wasn't the terrified little thing she'd first been, though she still had her moments when nightmares tormented her sleep or someone did or said something that triggered a flashback. Ashlyn had gained confidence and poise, when she disagreed with one of them, she spoke up rather than just going along with whatever was easiest.

"I still don't agree with the gifting of a gun," Finch grumbled.

"Noted," Ashlyn replied. "And in deference to your aversion for it, I will endeavor to keep my firearm out of sight when in your presence."

"Impertinent brat," he scolded, fighting to keep from laughing at her teasing tone.

She just flashed him a bright smile before flinging herself back onto the couch and into her father's arms for a hug, "Thank you, dad; I love it!"

Several days later, Detective Joss Carter glowered down at the phone ringing in her hand. She had been stunned when John stalked away from her when she'd run into him and his mysterious lady and then irritated when he didn't return her calls. Finally, she answered it, "What?"

"Hello to you, too, Carter," came the low gravelly voice.

"You'd better tell me what you're calling for before I just hang up on you, smart guy. I am so not happy with your actions the last time we met."

"That's part of why I'm calling, Carter," John replied. "I wanted to apologize for being so abrupt and also to invite you to dinner tonight so I can give you an explanation."

"Fine. When and where?" She wrote down the information he gave her and then appeased her frustrations by going ahead and hanging up on him when done. Joss smirked as she pictured him grumbling about her taking his exit line.

That evening, she strolled into the quaint little 'mom and pop' restaurant he'd suggested and found not only Reese, but Finch as well seated at a table in the back. She approached them with narrowed eyes and hid her surprise when they rose to greet her, "Gentlemen. So delighted to see you."

John hid a smirk at her snarky tone while Harold simply nodded to her and pulled out the chair next to him. She didn't particularly like sitting with her back to the room, but the former agent had far more experience than she did and wouldn't hesitate to use it to protect both of them.

Once she was seated, a waiter appeared and set three drinks down before asking for her order. After giving the chocolate milk in front of the empty chair next to Reese an appraising stare, Carter asked for iced tea. The man returned momentarily with her drink and left again so they could look over the menu.

"So, Harold, I'm sure John told you that when I ran into him the other day he had someone with him and decided not to introduce us. In fact, he was quite rude about it and sent the young lady hurrying away."

"As you well know, Detective, John has his own way of doing things and more often than not, his reasons take in account the safety of others," Finch informed her.

Before she could open her mouth to retort that she was a cop and didn't need his protection, the big man pushed his chair back and rose again. At first she thought she'd gone too far again and he was leaving, but instead he held out his hand to the approaching girl and drew her to his side when she took it.

"Detective Joss Carter, this is Ashlyn. The young lady who was with me."

The billionaire had also rose at her appearance with a warm smile and the police officer stared at the teenager who nodded in her direction as she slid past the military man to the other chair across from Finch, "Hello, Detective, it's a pleasure to finally meet the person I've heard so much about."

"I'd say I've heard a lot about you, but I'd be lying," Carter commented as everyone took their seats. She studied the youngster in bemusement; long night black hair hung in loose waves to slender hips, ice green eyes sparkled with warmth and intelligence, a beautiful face glowing with health and innocence, and the girl was wearing comfortable black jeans and a lovely silk shirt in cobalt blue that accented her dainty figure. Absolutely stunning.

John settled into his chair and draped his arm around the back of the teen's chair, "There's a reason for that Carter, and I apologize for not introducing you sooner. I fear I was being overly protective and perhaps a little possessive as well." His dark blue gaze rested lovingly on the girl as he stroked his fingers over her silken mane, "We just found her a short time ago and I've been working my way through a variety of issues." Reese looked up at the woman, "You trusted me with the knowledge of your son; so now I trust you with the knowledge of my daughter."

"Your…? Wait…what? A daughter? Since when?"

Finch chuckled quietly, "I assure you that our reaction was similar, Detective. John didn't know of her existence until recently and once he did, he took the necessary actions to acquire her from the appalling conditions she was living in and bring her safety to live here. She has been a delightful addition to our lives."

"I asked dad to arrange for us to meet, Detective, in case something happened. Then I could contact you directly rather than through him or Uncle Harold."

Joss was staring back and forth between the three people sharing her table as she worked on absorbing all the information coming at her. This was certainly the last thing she ever expected. She could have more easily believed that the man had a girlfriend rather than a child. And the way he was reacting to the teen's presence at his side told her more than anything his feelings of love and protectiveness for the girl.

Finally, she lifted her glass of tea to the other side of the table, "Well, I have to say that surprised doesn't even begin to cover it, but congratulations to both of you on your new family."

Her toast was acknowledged and John grinned at her, "Thank you, Carter. So now you know my deepest, most closely guarded secret." Every single person at the table snorted in disagreement causing him to chuckle, "Okay, one of my most important secrets, then."

"That one I can believe," Carter responded. "So, how much does your lovely daughter know?"

"Everything," Harold informed her. "We felt it best that she know what we know and she has been assisting us at times, through we are very careful to keep her involvement secret and her location secure."

Looking over at the girl, Joss asked, "Do you already have my phone number?" The teen nodded, "Good, if one of these tow gets out of hand, you don't hesitate to call me and I'll come straighten them out."

Ashlyn laughed, "I'd like to see that some time, actually." She pulled out her phone and tapped the screen a couple of times until Carter's phone jingled softly, "That's my number in case you need to reach me or if I call, you know who it is."

"Got it, and saving it," the cop set things up on her cell rapidly. "What about the other partner?"

"I'm going to meet with Lionel one on one and explain the situation to him before I actually introduce them. I want to make sure he understands the seriousness of the information he's going to be privy to before he has knowledge."

"Gotcha, and thank you for trusting me with this information; I'll do my best to ensure you don't regret it."

A few days later, Lionel Fusco received a surprise visitor at one of his son's games. He'd been standing quietly off under the trees watching and rooting his boy on when he realized he wasn't alone. Turning around, he glared at the man in the suit, "You know, you really could let a body know you're there rather than just coming up without warning."

"But where's the fun in that, Lionel?" John asked him in the dark gravelly voice.

The heavy set man just harrumphed and turned back to watch the game, "So what're you doing here?"

"We needed to talk and I wanted to do it face to face rather than over the phone."

"Talk? That means you're going to tell me something and I'd better listen up or face getting my butt knocked from here to next Sunday."

Reese leaned against a tree and studied the officer, "You're partially right, Lionel. Only in this case, I won't knock you into next week; I'll just kill you and make sure no one ever finds the body. Which means your son will never know what happened to his good cop/bad cop father."

Fusco went white at the soft promise and faced the other man, "Okay, so it's something major. What do I need to do?"

"I have something to tell you, and you're going to carry this secret to your grave. Understand?"

"Yeah. I understand."

"I have a daughter, and she's not only living with me, but has been working with us on our cases. You need to know of her existence in case she needs to contact you about something. You also need to know that if the wrong people find out about her, you will die a horrible, painful, slow death," John's voice dropped into a low whisper as he delivered his warning.

The threat didn't surprise him, he was used to those, but the fact that the big, scary man had a child stunned him speechless for a moment. Finally, he blinked up at the former agent, "How old is she?" he asked softly.

"Fifteen."

Lionel snorted, "Aren't you the lucky one? Instant daddy to a teenage girl of all things. You don't need to worry about me telling the wrong people about her, you need to worry about the hormones that are going to be kicking in and scaring the crap out of you." He shook his head as he watched his boy for a moment, "I hoped when my wife was pregnant that we were going to have a son, I couldn't handle a girl. Not only the rampaging hormones to deal with, but the possibility of her getting hurt, or worse, is so beyond anything I have to deal with from him," he gestured to the figure running in the distance. "I dread the day he discovers the opposite sex and then wants to start dating, fooling around, getting married, making me a grandpa."

"Thank you, Lionel; your comments are…vastly reassuring."

He grinned over at the military man, "Just you wait. So, why are you telling me this now, or at all even?"

"I only recently discovered I was a father and brought her here; with her helping with some of the cases, you may need to speak with her or she with you, and everyone needs to be prepared for that possibility."

"Do I get to meet her at some point?"

John pulled out his phone and opened a picture he had, "This is Ashlyn, and yes you will meet her."

"Holy cow! That's some little beauty you have on your hands, Reese. I hope you have the guns loaded and the knives sharpened before the boys come knocking on the door."

"They are, Lionel, trust me, they most certainly are."


	18. Chapter 18

Part 18

Things settled into a routine for the little family over the next couple of months. Harold was given numbers by his machine, John spent a lot of time in the field tracking people while still making sure he spent quality with his daughter, and Ashlyn helped them out from the safety of the library and enjoyed every minute she spent with her father. There were times when things were so complicated that both men were needed out in the city and even had to bring in one detective or the other. After her father eased some of his protective stranglehold, the teenager was able to be in more and more contact with the officers so she could help guide them to the places they needed to be. When she wasn't helping with numbers, the youngster was contentedly working on her studies in her own little room at the office or relaxing with John learning languages in the evenings.

Overall, life was good and everything was working together like a well-oiled machine.

Ashlyn was in her study room peering at the computer screen as she memorized new codes being introduced into the most state of the art computer systems when the door opened to admit her adopted uncle, "Ashlyn, I'm very sorry to disturb you while you're studying but I've run into a serious problem and I need your assistance, please."

She knew something was horribly wrong as soon as she saw him. The man didn't spend nearly enough time outside so he was naturally pale, but he was nearly white and his eyes were huge behind his glasses. She hurried to his side, "What's happened? Is dad alright?"

Turning, he limped rapidly back to the main area of the library and almost fell into his seat at the primary computer, "I honestly don't know. He was following our latest number and suddenly his line went dead. I can't raise him on the phone and he's not on any of the cameras so far from the surrounding area."

Heart in her throat, Ashlyn found her own chair and fired up the secondary system, "Where do you need me to start?"

For the next three hours, the two worked in tandem, utilizing every resource at their command and hijacking others when needed. The girl called in Carter and gave her Reese's last known location for her to check out but she came up empty. John's car was still there and inside was his phone, earwig, gun, and surveillance equipment; there was also blood on the seat, window, and door along with a single bullet lodged in the back of the seat.

The teenager pulled up camera footage from the start of John's appearance at the scene and watched it completely through at normal speed, then backed it up to a certain point and slowed it down to frame by frame. Since it was daylight, the muzzle flash was harder to pick up, but she finally spotted it and pointed it out to Harold, "Whoever it was, they knew exactly where the camera was located and how to stay out of its view to take the shot."

The screen faded abruptly to static that lasted two minutes, and when it came back up, it appeared that nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Except John wasn't in his car anymore.

Once they had an exact timestamp on when everything happened, the two computer geniuses began hacking into anything and everything within a two block radius of the scene to see if something could be found. Harold's computer suddenly began flashing an alert around the outer edge of the screen and he immediately accessed what it found.

"Oh, dear," he whispered.

The teen was immediately on her feet and at his side. Reaching over the motionless man, she took control of the mouse and enlarged the picture, automatically adjusting pixels for the clearest shot.

It was Samantha Groves. Root.

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"I don't know what you're planning, Samantha, but you may as well just give it up now," John growled softly. He was in excruciating pain from the gun shot wound in his left shoulder but as usual he hid behind a mask of unrelenting calm and serenity.

"My name is Root, and you should know by now that I don't give up on anything, especially when I'm so very, very close to achieving my purpose." The young woman looked haggard, as though she had been on the move constantly since he'd rescued Harold and hadn't gotten much sleep.

He could only hope he'd caused her as much stress in his efforts to track her down as she had caused him when she'd kidnapped Harold. Reese had been carefully working on his own to hunt down and ferret out anything and everything he could on this woman in order to neutralize her so she couldn't threaten his family again. He hadn't counted on Root finding him while in the field and shooting him.

"And what purpose do you think you're going to achieve, Samantha?" He knew he was goading her and he hoped it would eventually cause her to make a mistake.

"It's Root!" she snarled furiously, nearly in his face. Straightening, she took several deep breaths, struggling for control. She was so tired from all the running, hiding, conniving, and people she'd had to deal with and she just wanted it to stop. This man was going to be the key. She knew what he'd gone through to get Finch back so she was sure the billionaire would do the same to retrieve his partner. "Harold will give me what I want in order to get you back. If he doesn't, I'll make sure he understands what pain he's putting you through until he does."

John actually had the audacity to yawn and roll his head around his shoulders as he stretched as much as his bonds and bullet wound allowed, "If you think so, Sam." He didn't even flinch when she slapped him. Instead, his lips drew back in a parody of a grin, more a flashing of the teeth than smile, "I'm not Harold, Samantha. I've seen the dark side of people. I've _been_ that dark side many times. If Harold had gotten loose when you had him, he would have hurried as fast as he could to get away from you. If I get loose? You'd better not be anywhere nearby, because I won't run; I'll just kill you."

Root blanched at the promise, knowing that she had a wolf in her trap, and tried to cover it up by turning away from him and going over to her computers. She pulled out a camera and set it up on the tower before tapping on the keyboard for a few minutes. Suddenly, a voice issued through the speakers, "Ms. Groves. I believe you have something of mine in your possession."

"Hello, Harold, it's Root, and yes, I have your associate. Such a handsome devil he is, it would be a shame to ruin his good looks, wouldn't it?" She continued typing but didn't seem to be getting anywhere.

"What is it you want, Ms. Groves?"

"Samantha Groves doesn't exist anymore, Harold; I AM ROOT! And you know exactly what I want; so now the question is, how are you planning on giving it to me?"

Sitting in the library with Ashlyn safely on the other side of the desk, Finch carefully studied the video feed he was seeing of the bane of his life and the partner she held captive. He was also recording everything so he could break it down piece by piece for any clues to their location. While he was dealing with the evil female, the teenager was working hard at her system to prevent Root from getting into their computers, and she was succeeding. He could see them, but no matter what she tried, Samantha was unable to reverse the video so she could see him or gain entry to his network.

"I'm still trying to figure out exactly what you want with the machine and why, Ms. Groves. Please, enlighten me."

John could see she was nearly shaking with frustration over their refusal to call her by the name she'd chosen and that whatever she was trying to do on the computer wasn't working. Time to stir the pot a bit more, "Harold, can you hear me?"

"Of course, John, I can see you as well on the video."

"Silence!" Root snarled over her shoulder at him.

He just ignored her, "While I'm otherwise preoccupied, would you make sure Bear, Ash, and Dakota are taken care of? Everyone will need to be fed and walked regularly."

"Be assured I will endeavor to look after your little ones as if they were my own. Are you well?"

Before he could answer, Root whirled to face him, pulled out a gun, and fired it over his head as she shrieked, "SHUT UP!" Dropping the gun onto the table she grabbed the camera so it was only focused on her face, "You listen to me good, Harold. If you don't want me to carve him into pieces to send home, you'd better have an answer for me the next time I call as to when and how you're going to give me access to that damn machine!" Striking a button on the keyboard, she ended the call and turned to vent her frustrations on her victim.

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At the sound of the shot, Ashlyn's face drained of all color and her lovely ice green eyes went impossibly wide. Without taking his focus off the computer in front of him, her uncle gave her a reassuring shake of the head so she knew the bullet hadn't found its mark. When the feed ended, he motioned her to come to his side and began replaying it for her.

At first, the girl couldn't take her eyes off her father's face in the back ground; she'd been petrified ever since Carter had found the blood in the SUV. Finch realized her preoccupation and called her back, "Ashlyn, I know you're scared for John and what she might do to him, but he and I need you to focus right now on finding where she's holding him. Can you do that for me? For him?"

She took a deep breath, looked away from the screen for a moment until she found her calm, quiet center, and nodded. This time, when the playback started, she examined as much of the room around the two people as she could, looking for anything that might give something away. Harold even replayed it slower and highlighted sections for further inspection, but nothing could be seen.

Suddenly, Ashlyn leaned forward, "There! His hands; zoom in on dad's hands!"

It was hard to see since he was mostly facing the camera, but he had shifted just enough while pretending to stretch earlier so that his hands were more visible. As Root fought with the keyboard and the conversation continued between the two sites, Reese had been utilizing the only thing he could to communicate. His hands. Sign language. He was no where near as adept as his daughter, but his finger-spelling was quite good and fairly rapid even when tied to a chair. Finch got as good a picture as he could and sat back slightly so the teen could see her father as clearly as possible.

"Ah, crap! He's trying to get as much in as he can and it's all running together. Even with my memory, I can't make sense of it." She looked to her uncle, "Could you write down the letters for me and we can decipher them from there?"

"Of course." He pulled out pen and paper, rewound the video, and got set to write.

"Hearwtrsplashcloseposswareho usewtrfrontboathornsmenvoice yellingsmellsaltfishcsignyel lowblupartendsinghy. That's all he spells out."

Harold held up the paper and studied it for a moment, "It looks like gibberish to me."

"I felt the same way about your password and we figured that one out, didn't we?" She snagged the paper and went to their clear board to begin transposing onto it, muttering various possibilities to herself as she did. "Hear…wtr? Water? Splash…close…poss?...warehouse…wtr…water…front…waterfront…boat…horns…men…voice…yelling…smell…salt…fish…c?...sign…Oh! see sign…yellow…blue…partendsinghy? What?"

The billionaire joined her and worked on translating as he read, "Hear water splashing close. Possibly warehouse on the waterfront. Can hear boat horns and men's voices yelling. Smell salt and fish. See a yellow and blue sign. Partendsinghy? Any ideas on what that means?"

She began trying to break down the last word with his help, "Partend…singhy? Par…tend…singhy? Part…end…singhy?"

"There!" Harold exclaimed, "I see…part ends in ghy. Or it could be part ends inghy. Whichever, but I believe he's telling us he sees a yellow and blue sign and part of it ends in either ghy or inghy. If he's deduced he's on the waterfront, then perhaps the word he can only see part of is 'dinghy' as in a small boat or craft?"

Ashlyn nearly dove for the computer and began typing in search parameters for the waterfront with yellow and blue signs that had dinghy on them. Two came up.

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John gave a silent sigh of relief when Root finally tired of screaming in his face, poking at his wound, and slapping him. The woman had a voice to bend nails when she got riled up and between him and Finch, she'd been absolutely furious. Right now, she was back at her beloved computer trying to figure out how Harold had kept her out of his system when she had thought she knew the backdoor in.

He shifted in the chair slightly, trying to ease cramping muscles, and the legs scraped loudly in room prompting her to turn around to check on him. Root smirked when she realized he was still well-tied and very uncomfortable, then went back to work. Secure in knowing he could get himself loose, she put on her headphones so she could try to ferret out any noises in the background from her conversation with Finch to determine where he was.

Curious to see how soundproof the headset was, Reese moved again to make the metal screech and she didn't flinch, so either the sound was completely dampened or she was positive he could get away. He began working harder at the bonds.

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"I do not concur with this and I assure you that John would be even more vehement in his opposition. This is not a good idea." Harold stressed from the front seat of the car.

"It's the only idea we have and dad can yell at me for it later, after we get him out of this mess," Ashlyn replied from the back. Beside her, Lionel Fusco just shook his head. He happened to agree with the billionaire, but so long as he wasn't the one who got his head taken off by an angry, overprotective father, he was willing to play along.

"She'll be safe with me," Carter stated firmly as she put the car in park between two buildings. She turned to the man beside her, "Now, are you going with Fusco or staying here?"

Harold reached for the door handle, "I'm going, I'm going."

The two men made their way carefully to a nearby building with a yellow and blue sign out front that said 'Dave's Dinghy's' and began carefully checking things out. The two women reached their building, 'The Ringy Dingy', and Carter slowly cracked a door to peer in. Seeing nothing close to the entrance, she eased her way inside, gesturing the girl to slip in behind her and take cover behind some large crates. At the other end of the building, Joss spotted several tables cover in electronic equipment and a female form seated by them. About fifteen feet behind her was John, still tied to a chair.

Along the edges of the warehouse were more of the large wooden crates and she decided to take advantage of them to work her way to where captor and captive sat. She pointed decisively at Ashlyn and then gestured downward, telling the girl emphatically to stay exactly where she was. She was pleased when the teen slowly lowered herself to her knees and stayed put.

Making her way silently from crate to crate, thankful for her own military training, the officer edged closer until she was directly across from Reese on his left. She made a slight movement, out of sight of Root, for him to catch and nodded at him when he did. John allowed a smirk to break through when he saw her, knowing rescue was at hand, though embarrassed he was the one in trouble.

Root suddenly yanked off the headphones and threw them down onto the table, cursing loudly. The man behind her tsked softly, "My, my, Samantha, such language."

She whirled and stormed up to him, "Why do you insist on calling me that?! I told you, that person is dead; I AM ROOT!"

He shrugged one muscular shoulder as much as he could, "Your parents must have named you Samantha for a reason. Such a pretty name for such an evil individual. They should have name you after someone like Lizzie Borden who murdered her family, Elizabeth Bathory who killed women to bathe in their blood, or maybe…"

She slapped him again, as hard as she possibly could to make him stop talking. But before she could say anything another voice rang out, "Police! Put your hands up and step away from him!"

Stunned that someone had found them, Root's head snapped around even as she tried to maneuver herself so that John's body was between her and the advancing officer, "Stay back or I'll kill him!" Her gun seemed to materialize in her hand where she'd secreted it into a pocket at some point and she now aimed it at her victim's head.

The detective stepped out from the protection of the crate, gun trained on the female, "It's over, drop your weapon and move away."

"Oh no, it's not over until I have what I want," Root suddenly shifted her aim away from Reese to something over Carter's head and fired. Before the cop could move out of the way, a barrel dropped from the ceiling, knocking her to the floor as her weapon went skittering away.

With an evil, victorious smile, Root stepped back from where she'd been hiding behind the big man and stared down at him, "Since Harold decided not to play my game and give me what I want, I suppose I'll pay him back by killing his only friend and the lady cop. He can spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder for me, knowing that you won't be there to protect him." She cocked her head slightly at him, "I'm doing the world a favor by getting rid of you; you're nothing but bad code." She lifted the gun and a shot rang out.

John had refused to take his eyes off the woman, wanting to stare her down, even in death. So he was surprised when he didn't see the muzzle flash on her gun or feel a bullet rip through him. Instead, the flash came from his right and Root's body jerked violently before falling to the concrete floor in a rapidly spreading pool of blood.

"He isn't 'bad code'; you were just a poor programmer who didn't know what she was doing."

John's dark eyes went wide when he saw his daughter walking out from between two crates with the very gun he'd given her as a gift still in her hand, still directed at the body on the ground. She pulled a knife out of her pocket as she approached, inserted it carefully under the zip tie holding her father's wrists, and cut him free. As soon as he brought his hands around in front and shook some life back into them, Ashlyn handed him the knife so he could release the rest of the ties while she continued to watch Root.

The former operative forced himself to rise despite the pain and cramping he was dealing with and went to check for signs of life in Samantha Groves. There were none. His daughter had not hesitated to shoot to kill in defending his life.

Reese looked up from where he knelt and met the questioning green eyes, "She's dead, baby." He pushed himself to his feet again and held out his arms. Instead of taking full advantage of the offered embrace, the girl moved into his right side and hugged him, even as she handed him the gun so she could check over his injured shoulder.

The door behind them flew open as Lionel and Harold hurried in, having been drawn from their empty building by the gun shot. Seeing things were handled, Fusco went to check his downed comrade while the other man limped over to join his partner and adopted niece. Joss was already groaning as she regained consciousness and the other cop helped her sit up slowly, letting her know that everything was fine.

"John? Are you alright? I mean, other than your shoulder, which I can see is caked in blood. We'll need to get you to one of the doctors we can trust to get you taken care of, make sure you get the proper treatment. Are there any other injuries that are less obvious than the very large hole in your shoulder? Ashlyn, if you would please, put something over that to cover it back up. We wouldn't want infection to set in, you know…"

"Harold?" The older man stopped babbling at the sound of his name which caused Reese to sigh a bit in relief, "It's a simple gunshot wound, in and out, minimal damage, and should heal without any repercussions. Now, if you're done with the panic button, could we please get the hell out of here?"

Finch blinked a couple of times as he realized he'd been blathering on in alarm since the girl had pulled John's shirt aside to check his injury. He was so accustomed to the big man being the calm, steady rock who took wounds about as seriously as a dog shedding its winter coat that seeing him with a potentially life-threatening hole in his body scared him to death.

He pointed to the door, "We're parked just out there, do you think you can make it?"

"If I have to crawl."

When they reached the car, John slowly settled himself in the front passenger's seat, even though he desperately wanted to sit next to his daughter. He was terrified of what her reaction was going to be once the realization set in that she'd taken a life. It wasn't something he'd pictured when he gave her the gun, though he was lucid enough to know that she would have taken one of his own guns if she hadn't had hers. His other concern was what in heaven's name was she doing here to begin with?

Before Harold could get into the car, Ashlyn abruptly reached for his tie, forcing him to stop or risk being strangled, "I need this."

"What on earth for?" he asked, even as he was removing it. She wouldn't have demanded it if she didn't have a good reason.

"To make a sling for dad's arm until we can get him taken care of." She took it from him, made a slip knot, and leaned inside the car to ease it over John's head and arm, "That should give you some relief, dad."

He pressed a kiss to her cheek as she checked for comfort, "Thank you, sweetheart."

The teen smiled before backing out and climbing into the back so she could sit in the middle with Harold on one side and Carter on the other while Fusco drove. The computer genius gave directions in a soft voice in deference to Joss's concussion headache and the group headed out to pay a visit to one of the few doctors on the 'trusted' list.


	19. Chapter 19

Part 19

With his arm in a proper sling rather than his friend's tie, a shot to make him comfortable or at least loopy and sleepy, pain pills to ensure he stayed that way, and orders from the doctor to rest that he probably wouldn't follow, John was making his unsteady way into the loft with his friend and associate trying to help him on his uninjured side. It didn't help that Harold was simply not strong enough to truly bear his weight, but he was also limping quite a bit at this point from the stress and activity of the day.

Ashlyn went upstairs and grabbed a couple pillows from his bed along with a sheet and change of clothes. She returned, handed the last item to him and silently pointed to the office and sent Harold along to 'help' while she set up the couch for him to rest on when he came out. While the men were occupied and the couch prepared, the girl called one of the little restaurants nearby and ordered food for the three of them before going to her own room to change into shorts and a tank top. Even through the closed doors, she could hear the occasional grunt or growl of pain and Harold's apologies for any part he played in causing the discomfort. Ashlyn sank down on the bed and allowed herself the luxury of tears for a few minutes before making herself regain control and hurrying to the bathroom to wash her face and scrub her hands thoroughly.

As she entered the living area again, she was accosted by both dogs demanding attention. They had stopped at the library after getting Reese doctored to pick up the animals and both were on edge from the smell of blood and pain from the pack's Alpha. Sitting in the middle of the floor, Ashlyn pulled the puppy onto her lap for comfort and wrapped her arms around Bear's sturdy body as he sat beside her. Speaking in soft, reassuring tones, she settled them and herself as well. Hearing the door open behind her, she released the shepherd, knowing he would stay out of the way, and rose, picking up Dakota as she did so he didn't get underfoot.

The former agent managed to get to the couch and sit before his legs gave out and embarrassed him, but it was a very near thing. Looking over at his daughter, he smiled and held out the hand not buried in a sling, "Can I finally get a real hug, sweetheart?"

Releasing the pup, she hurried to his uninjured side and cuddled in, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing carefully, "I hadn't wanted to hurt you before and you needed medical care…"

"I know, baby, I know. But right now, I need to hold you and know that we're alright," he rested his cheek on the ink black hair tucked under his chin. Without raising his head, John looked over at his friend, "I know you're not big into affection, Harold, but I could use you close by so I know you're safe. It's been a bit of a harrowing day."

Though he allowed some displays of fondness, especially to and from the teenager, Finch usually refrained from anything more than a hand on the shoulder to show support and comfort. However, in this particular case, at this particular time, he figured all three of them could use the familiarity of family and consolation of touch. Since John was sitting at one end of the couch with his daughter snuggled up to him on the open side, Harold decided that it was time for payback and seated himself on the coffee table in front of the big man.

Leaning forward, he lightly gripped the fingers just sticking out of the sling as he patted the teen's knees, "I think I can make an exception tonight, John." The trio remained in contact with one another, allowing the events of the day to slowly ease as the love for one another as family brought solace.

When the doorbell rang, Ashlyn told both men to stay put as she rose and went to retrieve their food. The dogs were a bit of a challenge as Bear was in protection mode with the Alpha hurt and Dakota, who was turning into a social butterfly, was trying to get the delivery guy to pet him. When the girl finally got fed up with neither of them listening and raised her voice, both animals scurried back to their pack leader for reassurance.

The teen returned to the living room and found all four males watching her with surprised expressions, "What?"

"I don't know that I've ever heard you be anything but calm and patient with the dogs, Ashlyn; are you alright?" Harold asked.

She set the bag on the coffee table next to him, "No, Uncle Harold, I'm really not alright, but I'll get over it. It's been a stressful and upsetting day. Right now I want to eat, get dad as comfortable as possible, make sure you crash here for the night so you're not alone either, take a long hot bath, and hopefully get some sleep without nightmares. I'm really not holding out a lot of hope on the nightmares part, but I feel pretty optimistic on the rest."

Before Finch could try to talk his way out of staying over, John spoke up, "I think that's a great idea, Ash, on all counts. Having Harold here would not only ensure he isn't alone but if I need help with something you can't do or aren't comfortable with, he'd be here to help." He knew how to play cards and could slip in a few aces when needed to get what he wanted.

"Oh, very well," the billionaire grumbled.

Ashlyn just smiled as she handed out the food to everyone.

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Knowing how fastidious Finch was, the teen changed the sheets on John's bed and put on fresh pillow cases for him as well as laying out new towels for him to shower. He made his halting way upstairs when she was done to get as settled for the night as he could. He actually appreciated deeply the insistence he stay, not wanting to be alone or leave them alone to deal with the fallout of everything that happened.

After propping her father up with pillows behind him and supporting his injured shoulder, Ashlyn poked a couple of pain pills and an antibiotic down him and left him drowsing on the couch to walk the dogs for the evening. When she came back, she made sure he was sleeping and covered him with a light sheet so he didn't get cold. Deciding that now was the best time while the pills were at their strongest and he was out, the youngster hurried to her bathroom with its big tub and turned the taps on as hot as she could stand. Looking through her supply of bath salts and beads, she decided that lavender would be her best option as it might help calm her frayed nerves and help her relax enough to sleep for a while before the nightmares started.

She had a small CD player on a shelf away from any contact with water that she turned on with some soft soothing music, put her long hair up in a bun so it didn't get wet, and then climbed into the hot water. Heaving a blissful sigh as the warmth penetrated tense muscles and brought about some measure of relief, Ashlyn closed her eyes and let the tears fall freely and silently. Having her father taken had been horrendous for her. She'd only just found him and someone was trying to kill him. He'd been taken by the same person who'd kidnapped Harold. She knew what Root had done to her honorary uncle and figured what she'd do to John would be worse since he wasn't the one she actually wanted.

And she'd killed a human being today.

Granted, Samantha Groves was a terrible person, a psychopath, a murderer, and had both threatened to do harm to her family and had actually followed through on the threat by kidnapping, shooting, and torturing them. The woman had held a gun to her father's head and planned on pulling the trigger. If Ashlyn hadn't fired first, or if she'd been just a few seconds too late, John would have been dead.

When the water began to cool, the teen pulled her control back, scrubbed her face free of tears, and got out to dress for bed. As she left the bathroom, she detoured to the couch to make sure the military man was still resting comfortably. Finding him completely sacked out, she slipped to her own room, leaving the door open so that if he called, she could hear him.

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John woke up, instantly hating the feeling the drugs gave him. They dulled the pain, made it more bearable, but they also made his senses fuzzy and his reactions slow. He was actually in a comfortable position on the couch, but he still needed to shift from his back to his right side so he didn't start cramping. Making sure his left arm was still in its sling and held tightly to his chest, Reese carefully eased himself over onto his right side, starting to tuck his arm under his head as he did. A couple of lights had been left on in the room so he could see fairly well.

That was when he realized her wasn't alone. Curled up in the chair across from him, brown eyes watching him carefully, was a large Belgian Shepherd who thumped his tail several times when the Alpha noticed him. John's lips quirked slightly, "So are you here to guard me, or make sure I don't move off the couch?"

A figure wrapped in a blanket suddenly sat bolt upright from the floor beside him, "Are you alright, do you need something?"

He jerked back in surprise, the injudicious movement jarring his shoulder painfully. He hadn't even realized the teenager was sprawled on the floor next to him until that moment, "A little warning next time would be appreciated, sweetheart, so I don't have a heart attack."

Rolling to her knees to she could face him, repentance shone from her eyes, "I'm sorry, dad, I came in just a bit ago and you were still sound asleep so I didn't want to disturb you."

He leaned back a bit into the couch so he could free up his good arm and gently cupped her cheek, "It's okay, Ashlyn. What time is it, anyway?"

"2 am," she told him after a quick glance at her watch.

"Really? I actually slept five hours solid?"

"Pain meds and physical trauma can do that for you," the girl reached over and picked up a pharmacy bottle and a glass of water she'd placed on the coffee table. She shook two tablets out and offered them to him, "No complaints, just take them so you can sleep in comfort tonight. You can go back to being Mr. Macho Man tomorrow."

He accepted both pills and water without arguing, though he really didn't want to take them. He knew that if he rested, she would be more comfortable and hopefully be able to sleep some as well.

"So why are you out here sleeping on the floor when you have a perfectly good bed in your room?"

Sinking back off her knees until she was seated cross-legged, Ashlyn drew her blanket around her shoulders and hunched over, "I was in my room, but I had a nightmare and decided to come out here so I could be closer to you."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart; I know this has been a traumatic experience for you, too. I wish there was something I could do to make it easier."

"No, dad, don't be sorry for something that was completely out of your control. You couldn't anticipate that Root would show up, shoot you, drag you off someplace, try to use you for leverage, and then end up getting killed by me of all people." She shook her head, "I can't tell you how glad I was that you had taken so much time to teach me to shoot properly and not to hesitate."

"The last thing I ever wanted was for you to have to use that gun to kill another person. I wanted you to have protection if it was needed, but not to actually take someone's life. I didn't want that on your conscience." He sighed as he tangled the fingers of his good hand with one of hers, "I'm very glad, however, that she's out of all our lives for good."

"Well," the teen said with false cheer, "at least this one didn't end with someone blowing a gasket and screaming at me for doing something I shouldn't have, like Uncle Harold did."

"Don't get too hopeful about that, Ashlyn Caitriana. As soon as I get to feeling better, you and I are going to have a very long talk about what the hell you were doing there in the first place. You shouldn't have been anywhere near Root."

Crap.

Now she was going to have to keep him sedated on pain pills until she was eighteen so he couldn't ground her. She made a mental note to talk to Uncle Harold about a big loan so she could take stock in medications for her father. He might be willing if she blackmailed him by saying she'd implicate him in the whole thing. Surely dad would believe his only daughter over his employer!

John started to chuckle softly and she looked at him questioningly, "You have no idea what an open book your face is, baby. You couldn't play poker to save your life." His laughter was overwhelmed by a huge yawn as the medication and his overly fatigued body began to override his brain.

Ashlyn rolled back to her knees quickly and tugged the sheet up over his broad shoulders, leaning over to press a light kiss to his forehead, "You get some more rest, dad. I'll be right here if you need me. I love you."

"Love you, too, little one," he whispered as sleep pulled him back under.

Shifting gracefully to her feet, she looked up to the top of the stairs, "He's doing okay, Uncle Harold. Do you need anything?"

"No, child, but thank you," came the soft response from the shadows above her. "Good night."

"Night," she replied as she went to the kitchen to dump what was left of the water and get a glass of juice for herself. At the moment, she was wide awake and decided to curl up in the chair in the corner that had a small light beside it after she took the dogs out. She could read a book and still be able to keep an eye on the slumbering form of her father should he stir. After a quick walk, she went to her room to grab her current novel and settled into the comfy seat, setting her juice on a coaster next to her and tucking her legs up.


	20. Chapter 20

Part 20

When John next woke, his gaze went immediately to the floor beside him to see if his daughter was still there. When he didn't see her, her hoped that meant she'd been able to go back to bed and get some much needed rest. Bear appeared to have been in basically the same position all night as he was still on the chair opposite Reese. Knowing that moving was going to hurt, but needing to do it anyway, the man slowly slid his feet to the floor and pushed himself upright with his good arm. Breathing heavily to get through the pain, John paused and allowed the world to stop whirling around him. Once it did, levered himself off the couch and walked slowly to the bathroom.

When he was done, he washed his hands and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He still looked a bit haggard and pale under his tan, the circles under his eyes weren't as dark as they could have been, and when he tugged the shirt and part of the bandage aside to check the wound in his shoulder, he was reassured by the lack of redness and swelling. It hurt like the devil, but it was apparently not as bad as it could have been.

When he opened the door, he saw immediately that Bear was no longer on his perch and wondered where the dog had vanished to. His question was answered almost immediately when the front door opened to admit both animals who hurried over to him, the shepherd greeting his Alpha and the sheltie hoping for attention. He patted the pup, and then looked into the gleeful eyes of the Belgium, "Tattle-tail." The large animal just wagged his tail.

John slowly straightened up as his daughter approached, "Sorry he woke you, little one. I needed to use the bathroom and he apparently needed to tell you I dared to move."

The teen gave a soft laugh as she eased under his good arm and began maneuvering him back to the couch gently, "I was already awake and saw you moving; I figured it was a good time to take them out."

He sank down on the couch with a grunt and she quickly went about the business of tucking pillows behind and around him to support the injured arm before trotting off to the kitchen. When she came back, she was holding a glass of water and a large pill, "Here's your antibiotic, dad."

He tossed it back with a quick swallow, "What, you're not shoving pain pills down me, too?"

She grinned, "Nope, or at least not until tonight or if you ask for them. I'd like for you to take them before going to bed to help you rest, but I won't insist on them during the day." She gestured to his shoulder, "Are you okay with me changing the dressing?"

"It's not pretty, but if you think you're up to the challenge, you're welcome to it." He put himself into a more comfortable position so she could work on him.

Reaching under the coffee table, the girl pulled out a small box of supplies and set out what she needed before helping him take the sling off. Pulling on a pair of rubber gloves, she gently peeled away the bandage and studied the bullet hole for any signs of worsening. Finding none, she took out a couple of pieces of gauze, wet them with a cleansing agent, and carefully cleaned the area. She grabbed the old dressing and the gauze she'd used to clean him up into a tight fist and pulled off the first set of gloves with the trash inside them, she put on another pair, prompting a raised eyebrow from the big man.

"The doctor said I should use one set of gloves to clean you up and another set to place the dressing; that way it's less of a chance for bacteria to set in."

He just nodded and let her do her work. She daubed the ointment the doctor had sent along with them on and around the wound before covering it with a couple of sterile gauze pads and taping everything down thoroughly. Ashlyn was positive she had to have hurt him at some point during the whole procedure, but he never flinched, never made a face, never made a sound. Seriously, the man could be unnerving at times!

She put her supplies back in the box, tucked it under the table for easy access later and gathered up her trash to throw away, "Do you have a breakfast preference?"

"Something that doesn't require cutting, is hot, and will fill me up."

"One large bowl of grits coming up," she teased as she entered the kitchen.

"Cruel child; and here I am in agony after being kidnapped and held at gunpoint!"

"I don't recall Uncle Harold or I complaining about food after we'd been kidnapped," came the response.

John snorted, "This is becoming a habit that needs to be broken."

"What is becoming habit, John?" Finch asked as he descended the stairs.

"Being kidnapped. In only a few months time all three of us have been kidnapped for one reason or another and I'd prefer it not happen again."

Ashlyn pulled her head out of the fridge where she'd been taking items out to cook, "Look at it this way, I was kidnapped by a psycho who wanted to lock me away for his own personal amusement and you killed him. Both of you were taken by a lunatic who was after the machine for whatever reason she had in mind and I killed her. We should be good for a while."

The two men exchanged concerned glances. The teen was trying to make it seem like her killing someone wasn't a big deal when they both knew it really was. "Do you think I should call Dr. Patti?" John hissed to his partner.

"It might be a wise proposal," Harold murmured back.

"No, you shouldn't call Dr. Patti, it would be a foolish idea as well as a waste of her time and ours. Unless you think you'd like to talk to her about what happened to you, dad." The girl never paused in her meal preparations as she delivered her opinions, "And you don't need to whisper about what happened or your concerns for my mental health. If you have something to say, please do so; but understand this…I know exactly what I did. I knew exactly what would happen when I pulled the trigger yesterday. And I know that I would do the same thing again, right this very minute, if I were placed in the same situation."

She turned those stunning ice green eyes on them calmly, "And I would not regret it, just as I don't regret it now."

Her father shook his head slightly, "I expect you to come talk to me if you need to, Ashlyn. No trying to deal with this on your own, deal?"

"Deal." She carried three plates over to the table, "Come and eat."

They were surprised she'd finished whatever she was fixing so quickly, and John was even a little suspicious that she was going to try to serve him something nasty after her grits comment. The smells, however, were enticing and the men were pleased to find scrambled eggs with fresh mushrooms, herbs, spinach, and turkey sausage, a couple of pieces of toast each and large glasses of orange juice.

"You spoil me," John commented as he dropped a kiss on her cheek before slowly sitting down, "thank you."

"Indeed, you spoil both of us, Ashlyn. My gratitude for this delightful repast as well," Finch eagerly began working his way through the flavorful food.

"I have found that I like to cook. It's not often I get to with one or both of you in the field so much, but when I can I want to."

"I'll purchase your weight in cookbooks if you continue to make things like this," the big man promised.

The teen laughed, "No need for cookbooks! If I want something in particular, I can look it up on the internet and go from there. If there's a certain meal either of you want, let me know and I'll whip it together for us one evening when we're all going to be able to enjoy it."

Finch closed his eyes in bliss, "I think every Sunday should be the time for a family meal. I'll happily pay for each and every ingredient you may need to continue your culinary genius as well as whatever kitchen utensils or cookware."

"I second the motion," John agreed. "And I'll take you shopping so you can pick out what you need for pots, pans, equipment…you name it."

Ashlyn just laughed softly.

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Under the expert care of his daughter, John healed rapidly and as he did, he was able to help the girl with her nightmares. He'd expected the dreams to take the form of her shooting Root over and over again; instead they were terrible imaginings of what would have happened if she hadn't taken the shot and killed the woman. She kept seeing her father die, then Carter, Harold, Fusco, and finally herself; all because she couldn't make herself pull the trigger.

Having been there himself in the past, Reese talked with her about the dreams and comforted her when they got too bad and she woke up screaming. By the time he was back to full strength, Ashlyn was no longer having the nightmares and things were settling down in their lives again. The numbers kept coming in and the team kept working to solve them and keep people alive.

When the teenager approached the two men about taking some classes at the local college, they were both a little unsure at first, but after going through the pros and cons of everything, decided that it would be good for her. Though basically all of the people attending would be older than her, many were in their late teens and she really did need to have some friends around her age. She decided to take two classes a week in computer sciences where she would be able to do more hands-on practical lessons in the school's computer lab.

The small community college was very close to the library the team worked in so she could walk to and from her classes easily, though the first couple of weeks Reese insisted on driving her. Several people in the course were eighteen and nineteen years old, so she wasn't completely on her own as the only kid. Some of the young adults saw her as a little sister to watch over, while the older members because surrogate aunts and uncles. Her teacher, a thirty two year old man who was an absolute whiz at computers and mathematics, had been stunned at the beautiful young teenager taking his class and even pulled her aside the first day to talk to her and make sure she was in the right place. Once she showed him her transcripts and asked him to give her a chance to prove herself, he hesitantly agreed.

At the end of the class, he asked her to stay back. Once the rest of the group had left and she was still sitting at her computer table, David Sipe approached and sat down in a chair across from her, "Well, I have to admit, you really surprised me."

"In a good way, I hope, because I'd really like to continue this class."

"Oh, there's no doubt you're going to be in this class, I just don't know if you'll be a student or the teacher!" He laughed, "You're very advanced already, though there are a few spots you need to work on, but I'll make sure you understand them while you're here."

She grinned at him in delight, "Cool! Thanks, Professor Sipe, I really appreciate you giving me a chance."

He didn't see the door behind him ease open as he responded, "I'm looking forward to the opportunity to work with you, Ashlyn. You're an amazing young lady. I've been blessed with a photographic memory rather than an eidetic, so I can, in part, understand your abilities better than most. If you're interested in continuing computer classes after this one, there're several you may benefit from."

"Definitely, I'm really wanting to learn as much about computers as I can so any help you can give would be great," the teen spotted her father watching from the doorway and began gathering up her things.

"You may be interested in some of the smaller group studies that have been popular over the last couple of years," the young man offered. "It's usually made up of about five or six of the more advanced students from each class who get together once a week around seven in the evening to work on particular code work."

Before she could answer, John made his presence known and nearly scared the life out of the teacher when he spoke from directly behind him, "Maybe."

David wheeled around in surprise and scrambled to his feet to face the intimidating man towering over him, "Geez! I didn't hear you come in, buddy; who are you?"

Ashlyn came around from the other side of the table and tucked herself comfortably under scary guy's extended arm, "Professor Sipe, this is my father, John Shepherd."

Scary guy fit him much better, but David gamely offered his hand, "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shepherd, you have quite an intelligent girl here."

"Thank you," John responded, gripping the other's shaking appendage firmly but not hurting him. Yet. He looked down at his daughter, "When you didn't come out immediately, I thought I'd come find you."

"Sorry, dad, the professor had been concerned about me being too young for the class or getting overwhelmed."

Dark blue eyes fixed on the other man, "I hope she's assured you sufficiently of her competence?"

"Um…ye…yes, sir. She really has," definitely scary guy, maybe even downright terrifying fiend from hell judging by the fires burning in those eyes. "I'll try to make sure she's out of here on time from now on, sir." Anything to prevent a repeat visit. He'd hold the class outside on the parking lot if he had to!

"Thank you," John repeated in the same quiet monotone that seemed to freak people out when he wanted them to fear him. He looked down at the teen leaning against him, "Ready to go home, sweetheart?"

"Yes," she was relieved of her bag as the big man guided her to the door. "Thanks, Professor, see you on Thursday."

"Yeah, see you," hopefully without dad!

Once they were in the car and John was pulling out of the parking lot, Ashlyn burst out laughing. He looked over at her with twinkling eyes and a faint smirk, "Found that amusing, did you?"

"You're so bad! I think my teacher was about to wet himself he was so petrified of you; and you did absolutely nothing to help!"

"Not part of my job description, little one."

She laughed again, "Which job, daunting enforcer of justice or intimidating doting daddy?"

"Yes."

She couldn't wait to get to the library and tell Uncle Harold about her class and her father's appearance.


	21. Chapter 21

Part 21

School was going well, John hadn't needed to terrorize the professor further and he also decided that perhaps next semester she could join the small groups. Ashlyn was actually making some friends for the first time in her life. An eighteen year old girl from her class had asked her for some help in understanding one of their lessons and the two had hit it off. Harold had been concerned at first that the older girl might have been trying to use his adopted niece to cheat in class, but he was happily wrong.

Ashlyn shared her table in the lab with blonde, grey eyed Heather Burke and the two were drawn together by a love of computers and a penchant for shyness. They had been assigned a code to decipher in class and the older teen got stuck halfway through. Ashlyn had breezed through with no problems, saw her tablemate struggling, and quietly offered to help. When Heather agreed, the youngster had scooted closer and had her walk back through the steps, stopping her when she reached the point of error and helping her, without solving it for her, in correcting it.

Since she was so good at everything thrown at her, the professor made her his unofficial aide and allowed her to help out any of the students who would ask for it. He had told her that he'd watched how she handled herself with Heather and was pleased she'd not just done everything for the other girl. If other students were comfortable asking a girl younger than them for help, she was free to give it. However, he made it very clear to the class that while Ashlyn was available and very able to help, they were not to try to get her to do their work for them, nor would he tolerate bullying.

David needn't have worry about bullying; the two girls had been in the college's library working on an assignment when a guy from their class who was in his early twenty's had tried to approach them. He used a few intimidation tactics to try to scare the younger teen into doing his project, and was frustrated when she seemed unimpressed with him. Unfortunately, he not only didn't receive the work he wanted, but he had to withdraw from the class, seeing as he was sporting a badly broken hand and wrist and would be unable to do any form of typing for a while. The price he had to pay for daring to lay hands on the daughter of the city's guardian.

At first Heather had been scared half to death of her new friend's parent, but after he removed the man who'd been bothering them, she was able to see him for what he truly was and relaxed. She never knew that the pair of adults had completely vetted her and her family to make sure there was no threat to Ashlyn or themselves. When she came back clear, and they saw the effort she was making and the youngster's response, they encouraged the developing friendship.

As holidays began to roll around, the two men found themselves looking at the celebrations in ways they never had before. Ashlyn's presence in their lives had brought about so many changes, and this was just one more to add to the positive side. At Halloween, the girl was invited to a costume party at the college and John not only agreed to let her go, but named himself to be one of the chaperones, dragging Harold along with him.

Ashlyn fought to contain her laughter when her father decided to dress as a mobster, complete with a gun popular in the fifties with enforcers. No one at the school dared to question if the large weapon was real or not and he certainly was not inclined to offer up the information. He threatened to dress his partner up like a duck if he didn't get a costume of his own, so the computer genius flattened his hair, put on a dark blue suit, and carried around a note pad and pen, proclaiming himself to be Clark Kent. The teenager had bolted for her study room before she lost it though her parent had no problems outright laughing in delight.

Two weeks before the event, John had taken the teen shopping for her costume, knowing she wanted to have the chance to really join in a function with her age group and needed something that would wow them. They checked into a couple of different places, but most had outfits primarily for kids or poorly made for adults. After some online investigation, Harold sent them to a reputable shop that had items made for theatre and movie use.

When they walked through the door, Ashlyn's eyes went wide as she stared in awe at all the fantastic outfits on display. She was absolutely floored by the quality of the materials used and just knew that she could find something outstanding here. As she started on one side and began making her way through the store, her father kept pace with her to offer his opinions.

Since coming to live with him, the teen had learned that while the man was able to keep his face impassive most of the time, he had little micro-expressions she could watch for to see what he really thought about something. It was a trick she used as they wandered through the shop.

The first costume she pulled off the rack was a two piece Indian maiden made of tan suede, lots of fringe and bead work, and topped with a headband and single feather. John took one look at the expanse of bare skin between top and bottom and tightened his lips slightly in disapproval so it was put back.

The second was a stunning Geisha kimono that covered her from neck to fingers to ankles in exquisitely embroidered satin. It was an autumn scene with falling leaves of scarlet, yellow, and orange and an obi in shades of brown and evergreen. Her father's response was a faint smile of agreement so she set it aside to try on.

The third was a black and white pirate wench that was low cut on top, high cut on the bottom, and barely laced in the middle. John's eyes narrowed a bit in dislike so it was hung back up.

Number four was a fairy complete with gossamer wings in the palest pink imaginable that had a delicate ragged hemline that fell to her knees. A truly saccharine sweet costume that caused him to curl a lip in disgust, it was nearly thrown back since she agreed wholeheartedly.

Five was pulled out just to get a reaction. A sexy white nurse's dress that was skin tight, nearly transparent, and came with six inch heels. John buried it in the middle of the rack with a soft exclamation of loathing and fixed glittering blue eyes on his snickering daughter.

Six was grabbed by John in retaliation. A black nun's habit with a white wimple, coif, and head veil. The teen quickly returned it to its spot and grabbed him to move on.

Number seven was the hands-down winner. A beautiful Cleopatra costume made of silk and satin. The sleeveless dress was snowy white silk with a gold satin sash lined along the top in gold lace that wrapped around the middle, emphasizing her slender waist. The dress was floor length with two knee high slits on the sides that were trimmed, along with the hem, in gold satin ribbon. A shimmering gold belt decorated with gold, blue, and red sequins and stones hung from the waist and echoed the same colors in the elegant collar around the neckline. A cape in the same gold satin as the sash hung to the floor and attached with gold sequins and stones to elaborately decorated bands on the arms and wrists. There was a golden head piece in the shape of a snake that was hung with dainty gold beads to drape over her long black hair.

She looked over at Reese for his response and he simply pointed to the dressing room so she could try it on. With a grin, she hurried off while he found an employee and asked what other accessories they could get to go with it. When Ashlyn came out in the gown and headpiece, jaws dropped at how perfectly suited the costume was for the girl. After finding out her shoe size, someone had found delicate golden sandals with thin straps that came up to the knee, while another worker had grabbed the scepter that went with the dress and a couple of gold armbands in the shape of snakes for her upper arms.

"Perfect," John declared in that soft gravelly voice and his daughter smiled at him happily.

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The night of the party, John and Ashlyn invited Harold to join them at the loft for dinner and then everyone could change into their costumes. Finch hadn't been told what she was going as; only that he would love it. The teen made a wonderful meal of stir fry meat and veggies on burrito shells with a tossed salad of mixed greens for them.

When everyone was finished, they disappeared into their assigned rooms to prepare for the evening. John, as usual, was quickly done and the first to return to the living room wearing his old fashioned dark suit and sporting a large gun. Harold came out of the office in his dark blue suit, hair not only slicked back, but he'd even darkened it for the night with some washout dye. The older man commented that perhaps he should have dressed as the mob boss with John as his enforcer, to which the former agent responded that Halloween was the night he didn't have to take orders. That, of course, prompted a long dissertation of how they had long since moved past employer and employee and 'when had John ever been good at taking orders anyway' that lasted until Ashlyn made her appearance.

When she came out of her bedroom behind Harold, her father spotted her and caught his breath, stopping the other man mid-sentence as he turned to look. She looked amazing. The Cleopatra costume enhanced her natural beauty all the more and looked as if it were made for her. Her long black hair hung loose and flowing to her hips and appeared even more glossy than normal against the white silk, and the gold beads in the headdress looked like tiny stars lost in the heavy blackness. She'd outlined her striking green eyes with black eyeliner and used a dark smoky grey shadow than brought the color out even more. With the golden cape flaring softly behind her as she approached, Ashlyn appeared every inch the former ruler of Egypt come to life.

"Exquisite," John whispered. "Absolute perfection."

"One could almost believe you were Cleopatra herself attired as you are, Ashlyn. Beautifully done," Harold stated.

"Thank you," the blushing teen answered as she held out the armbands to her father. "Could you help me get these on? I don't have enough hands to hold it in place and tighten them until they're comfortable."

"Of course," he took the offered snakes and wrapped them around her upper arms, just above her biceps, and made sure they were secure without interfering with her arm movements or circulation.

Once everyone was ready, John drove the group to the college, dropping his passengers at the door, and found a place to park, not an easy feat with all the students and professors in attendance. He walked rapidly back through the lot, his pace increasing when he saw a bunch of boys gathered around his daughter and friend.

Ashlyn had politely declined offers from several of the boys to walk her into the building, saying she preferred to wait there with her uncle until her father arrived. One young man, overly bold and dressed as an unconvincing vampire, reached for her hand as he tried a fake Transylvanian accent, "I am Dracula and you are unable to resist my mesmerizing powers. You want to come away with me to a secret place only I know."

When a powerful hand suddenly wrapped around his wrist and caused his fingers to go completely numb, the boy gasped in horror and stared up at the man gripping him. The former agent leaned in close and whispered, "You need to forget the secret place unless you want to stay there permanently. Got it?"

When the kid nodded frantically, John released him and offered his arm to the girl, "Shall we?" Regal as the Queen of the Nile, Ashlyn accepted his arm and allowed him to guide her inside and a softly snickering Clark Kent following them.

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The girl's costume was a hit. Two other Cleopatra's commented that they ought to just call themselves by another name or perhaps that Ashlyn should change hers from Cleo to Nefertiti who was reputed to be the most beautiful woman in Egypt. Either way, they knew their outfits weren't on par with the younger teen's and they didn't stand a chance at winning the best costume prize.

There were several different categories: best men's, best women's, best fantasy, best superhero, most frightening, most realistic, most beautiful, funniest, sexiest, cutest, colorful, dangerous, silliest, and ugliest. Surprisingly, people got the Clark Kent outfit Harold was going for and he won Best Superhero to his consternation and his family's amusement. As soon as it was announced they were giving away one for Most Dangerous, every single eye in the room turned on John, who just ignored it as he hovered behind his daughter. The voting had been unanimous and he was the undisputed victor with everyone clearing a path for him to reach the stage while Harold smirked at him.

Ashlyn won in several categories, including Best Women's, Most Beautiful, and Best Overall Costume of the Night. Her father was very pleased to see how truly popular she was with the other students and how they showed their support of her. Heather, who had won Most Colorful in her outfit as Rainbow Brite, was nearly jumping up and down as she cheered for her friend.

As the party wound down, the two men settled into chairs at one of the tables near the dance floor where they could still keep an eye on things, but were no longer on high alert. Ashlyn was dancing with some of the younger crowd and appeared to be having fun, especially as she learned some new moves. At around 11:00, she and Heather made their way over to the family and collapsed into chairs with sighs of fatigue, but smiles of delight.

The military man reached over and gently tugged on one ink black curl, "Enjoying yourselves?"

They both nodded enthusiastically before Ashlyn asked, "Can we stop on the way home and get some ice cream tonight, dad?"

"Of course," he smiled; his child adored ice cream, though she didn't indulge very often.

A pair of eighteen year old boys came over and shyly asked the young ladies to dance, though Ashlyn's invite also came with a fearful glance in her chaperone's direction. Both accepted and were whisked away.

Harold looked over at his friend, "I must say, John, I'm impressed with your control this evening."

"What control, Harold?"

"Well, other than the young man at the front door who grabbed her, you've allowed Ashlyn the liberty to move around and interact with her peers without interference. I was a bit apprehensive that you wouldn't permit her such freedom in this environment."

"I can see her at all times, Harold," came the soft gravelly voice. "Why shouldn't I let her be as independent as I can here?"

"All of the other students as well as the faculty and everyone's dates are older than her."

"True, but none of them have what I do."

"And what might that be?" Finch inquired.

"Trust in my daughter." He turned glittering blue eyes on his associate, "And a loaded gun."

Harold just rolled his eyes.

When the girls returned to their table, Ashlyn asked if it was alright for Heather to spend the night at the loft since it was a Friday night. Even though she was eighteen, the young woman lived at home and John wanted to make sure her parents were okay with it first. The blonde stepped out to call home and when she came back, stated they were fine with it, but she needed to walk home first to change clothes, then catch a bus to the loft.

John immediately nixed that idea, he didn't want the pretty girl walking alone on the city streets in the dark, and told her they would drive her to her house, wait for her, and then bring her home with them. It also gave him a chance to meet her family. Heather tried protesting that she had walked home many times from the school and had never had a problem, but he was adamant and she eventually gave in.

With Heather giving him directions from the backseat with Ashlyn, John easily found her house and pulled into the driveway. Getting out, he walked both girls to the porch where the blonde unlocked the door and opened it. An older woman was sitting in the living room working on some embroidery while a heavy set man sat at the kitchen table just beyond her paying bills. Both looked up when the door opened and Heather's father immediately rose to approach them, assisting his wife off the couch as he did.

"Mom, dad," the young woman introduced, "this is the friend from college I was telling you about and her father, Ashlyn and John Shepherd. These are my parents, Chris and Lisa Burke."

The older man smiled warmly down at the girl, "Hello, Ashlyn; you're all Heather talks about lately and what a big help you've been to her." He offered his hand, "Mr. Shepherd, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Call me John, please, and it's nice to meet you as well." He shook hands with the father and then offered a gentle grip of mom's hand, "Mrs. Burke."

"It's Lisa, and he's just Chris; we've never been the type to stand on ceremony," the woman's hold was weak and she was very thin and pale. She reached out to the fifteen year old, "Ashlyn, you're as lovely as Heather told us, and this costume is marvelous!"

"Thank you, ma'am, dad helped me pick it out."

Lisa laughed softly, "Ma'am makes me feel so old, child! You can just call me by my first name, or mom when you feel comfortable enough to do. Heather's friends growing up always called us mom and dad, so feel free when you're ready."

Heather saved her friend from having to answer by snagging her hand, "Come up to my room with me so I can change and throw some clothes in for tonight and the morning." The two hurried up the stairs and disappeared behind a door.

Chris noticed a slight movement from the car, "Is there someone with you? They're welcome to come in and wait with us."

"My brother-in-law, Ashlyn's uncle Harold. He's a little sore from being on his feet a lot today, so he said he'd rather wait in the car," John told them smoothly.

"Does he live with you two of you?"

"No, Chris, he has his own place, but he wanted to come along tonight to the Halloween party to see Ashlyn and her costume, and he helped me chaperone."

The trio moved into the living room and Reese was invited to sit in a comfortable arm chair while the couple settled on the couch. Lisa smiled at the man seated opposite them, "So, John, what do you do for a living? Heather has talked about how much Ashlyn's helped her in school, but she really hasn't told us much about her or you personally."

He decided the give them a vague version of the truth, "I'm former military and work in security now. Ashlyn and I live in a loft over by Chinatown and I work out of a building near the college." He pulled out a card and offered it to them, "Here's my cell phone if you need to reach me for any reason; that's the best way to track me down."

Chris accepted it and pulled out his own cell phone, when John's abruptly rang, he grinned, "Now you have my cell number as well."

The younger man had to smile, they seemed to be a nice family, and he was grateful for it, "Is Heather your only child?"

"No, we have two boys as well; one just graduated college this past spring and the other is still in school," Lisa told him. "We had hoped to have another girl so we had an even number, but we weren't so blessed. How about you? Any other children? What does your wife do?"

John shook his head, "Ashlyn is my only one. Her mother died in a car accident about two years ago so it's just the two of us; and Harold, of course. He's been very involved in her life and she stays with him if I need to be gone for any length of time."

"I'm so sorry to hear about your wife, that must have been devastating to you both," Lisa sympathized sincerely as her husband gently took her hand and squeezed.

He was saved from having to answer any more questions by the appearance of the girls coming down the stairs. Heather had changed into an old pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and was carrying a bag with other items. He rose and asked, "Is there a time you need your daughter home by tomorrow?"

Chris laughed, "When she's ready to come home or you get tired of giggling girls, my friend!"

"Dad!" Heather scolded as she hugged both parents. Ashlyn and John said their goodbyes and the trio returned to the car to head for the loft.


	22. Chapter 22

Part 22

John showed up at the library Saturday morning with a large cup of coffee and donuts. When he sank down into a chair near his partner, Harold looked over at him with some amusement as the other man buried his nose in the cup, "Difficult night, John?"

"You have no idea, Harold. Even with the bedroom door closed, the pair of them stayed up basically all night and watched chick flicks, so my sleep was very sporadic. Heather's father wasn't kidding when he mentioned giggling." The big man stretched his legs out in front of him as he slouched down, "They finally fell asleep around six so I got a couple of hours in before my internal clock said that it was time to get up."

Finch chuckled, "The joys of parenthood."

The other man smiled into his coffee, "There are many of those moments, too."

"So, what were you wanting my computers for this morning?"

Rising from his comfy seat and moving to one of the computer chairs, John plopped back down, "Heather's parents."

"What about them? We checked to make sure they weren't any type of threat and they cleared with flying colors," Harold reminded him.

"I know, but I want to know more about finances and health issues. Lisa Burke looked like she was sick and I need to know what's going on."

Without further comment, Harold began delving into the Burke family's history again, this time looking more closely at things he'd only cursory glanced at before, "Oh my."

"Yeah, that's what I was afraid of."

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Returning to the loft with hot chocolate and food in hand, he found the girls just waking up and they eagerly dove into the food and inhaled the chocolate almost before it left his hands. John quickly retreated to safety, leaving them to their meal while he took the dogs out for a walk and fed them. When he returned, he was given an opportunity quickly to try to talk to Heather about her family situation.

The blonde girl sat on the floor and began playing tug-o-war with Bear while her dark-haired companion threw tennis balls for a happy Dakota. The older girl was no match for the shepherd if he used his full strength, but Bear was used to tempering his pulls to Ashlyn's abilities so he did the same with his new playmate.

Relaxing on the couch and watching the group play with a fond eye, John commented, "You really seem to like dogs, Heather, do you have any at home?"

She shook her head, "Wish we did, but Ricky, my little brother, is allergic. I hope that when I graduate in a few years, I can get one."

"In the meantime, any time you'd like to tire these two out, you're welcome to visit. The fun thing with animals; they go from sound asleep to absolutely starving to all out playtime to sleep again. And you can't distract them for long. If they want food, they don't want to play, and if they want to play, don't try to get them to sleep."

"I wish Ricky could be around them, I think he would love getting the chance to pet and play with them."

He cocked his head, "Couldn't he take allergy medications so he can spend at least a little time with animals?"

"I don't know, he's very…sensitive to medications. There's a lot of stuff he's allergic to so we have to be careful."

"Can I ask…?" John leaned forward, "Does your brother have some kind of medical concern?"

Heather won control of the rope and threw it for the Belgium before turning to face her friend's father. Something in his eyes, a gentleness she usually only saw when he was intent on Ashlyn, moved her to confide in him, "Yes. He has Down Syndrome. His health isn't the best but he's the happiest person I know. His inner strength and the things he can do are such an inspiration to me. My older brother really resented Ricky when he was born because of his disability and all the time our parents have to spend with him, but I love to hang out with him."

His voice lowered a bit as he asked, "And your mom? I noticed her physical condition wasn't the best last night when we were there."

Tears formed in the soft grey eyes, "She's tired all the time, part of it's from taking care of Ricky all the time, and part of it is she's sick, but we can't afford her medication; it's too expensive. The only way I can afford to go to the community college and take a couple of classes is a scholarship I won; otherwise I'd not have been able to attend."

John slid to the floor beside the young woman and drew her into a comforting hug while his daughter embraced her from the other side. Now that he had more of the story to match what they'd found in the computers, he was determined to help the family as much as he could.

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Later that day, John drove the girls back over to Heather's home and as they pulled into the driveway, the front door opened and a boy stepped out onto the porch smiling and waving.

"That's Ricky," Heather said as she waved back at him.

As soon as the car was stopped, she opened the door and scrambled out to catch her brother as he launched himself at her for a welcome home hug. They were laughing and it was easy to see how much the two loved each other.

As Ashlyn came around the car and John exited, the young woman drew her brother over to them, hope in her eyes that they wouldn't turn away or be disgusted by someone with a developmental disability, "This is my brother, Ricky Burke. Ricky, this is my best friend, next to you of course, Ashlyn and her dad John."

The boy held out his hand and stated in a soft voice, "It's very nice to meet you, sir."

The big man very gently accepted the handshake, "It's nice to meet you, too, Ricky."

Turning to his sister's friend, he held out his hand again, but this time he stared a bit before blurting out, "You're so pretty!"

With a smile, Ashlyn shook his hand, "Thank you, Ricky. I'm glad to meet you."

The boy's speech was clear with only a slight stutter at times and a bit of a slur on certain sounds, but easy to follow. It was obvious that he and his family had worked hard together to encourage his success.

Lisa stepped out the front door, "Hey there! Why don't you all come in for a bit of hot cider; it's a little blustery out here today and I thought it would make a nice treat."

Ricky took his sister's hand and walked with her back to the house, checking back over his shoulder frequently to make sure the other two were coming. Once inside, they all sat down at the kitchen table and Heather told her brother about staying over at her friend's house and the dance the night before. He listened eagerly, asking myriad questions if he thought she was leaving something out or he wanted more information.

When she was done, he told them about the party he went to at his own school and all the different costumes he saw. Lisa smiled lovingly at her children as they talked and looked over at their guests, "I've always been so happy at how close these two are. Not all siblings are as accepting as Heather is."

"She was a delight to have at the loft last night, and I can see how much they love each other," John replied.

Ricky suddenly hopped up and asked both girls, "Do you want to see my Dracula and pictures?" When they agreed, he grabbed them each by the hand and led them through the house.

"I hope you weren't in a hurry, John, because they may be a while," Lisa laughed.

"Not at all, I'm glad that Ashlyn as some friends to hang out with. It worries me that she's so highly intelligent but so young; she intimidates people sometimes with her intellect."

"Heather's told me what a big help she's been at school with the computer class. My girl is very shy and Ashlyn has helped bring her out of her shell, for that she will always be welcome in this home," the woman assured him.

"Thank you, it means a lot to me," John told her sincerely.

The adults talked for a while about Ricky and his schooling, the things they were working with him on and how independent he was. The family had always insisted that he do as much for himself as possible so he wasn't dependent on the charity of others and he had thrived on their love and support. John became more and more determined to find a way to help take some of the burden and worries off them.

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A couple of weeks later, Heather appeared in class with a bounce in her step and a light in her eyes that had Ashlyn demanding to know what was going on.

"The college re-evaluated my ACT/SAT scores and my high school transcripts and increased my scholarship; I can take more classes now and we won't have to pay for them because it's completely covered! Books, tuition, everything!"

The dark haired girl hugged her friend in delight, though in her heart, she suspected something was not quite right about it; most colleges didn't just arbitrarily make changes to someone's scholarship. And when the blonde came in right before Thanksgiving break and announced that her dad had been offered a new job that was closer to home, with excellent benefits, and nearly triple his salary with a huge signing bonus, Ashlyn knew it wasn't a coincidence. When Heather further confided that they had received a letter from Ricky's social worker stating he had qualified for their full comprehensive waiver program, meaning that everything he would ever need would be paid for in full without the family having to figure out to cover costs, her heart sank.

She walked back to the library that afternoon slowly, mind whirling with questions and concerns. Who was the mysterious person who was setting them up? Why were they being set up? Was it because of Heather's friendship with her? Had her former step-father's family discovered where she was and were somehow trying to sabotage her friendship? The girl knew that the family was about to take a terrible fall; why else would all these good things be happening? No one ever did anything like this just out of the goodness of their heart!

Entering the library, she was surprised to find it empty of human habitation as both dogs bounced to greet her but no voices. Sending a quick text, she found that the men were in the field and would be back in a couple of hours. Firing up her computer system, she began searching for clues to her friend's sudden good fortune.

She was startled several hours later when Bear suddenly began barking at the gate. Turning around, she saw John and Harold coming in and realized she'd been so involved in her investigations she hadn't heard them come up. Worse, she hadn't found anything to ease her mind and was now more miserable than ever. Not wanting to get her family involved when they were already working on another number, she shut down the computer and went to meet them.

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Thanksgiving was enjoyable for the little trio. Ashlyn had quizzed each man on what they liked to eat most on the holiday, put together a menu, dragged her father shopping for the ingredients, and took over the kitchen the night before and the morning of. When Harold arrived at one that afternoon, his nose was assailed with smells so delicious, he almost started drooling. Looking over at his friend who was seated on the couch with a beer and the football game, he found John grinning at him.

"Imagine being here all day and having to smell that without getting to go into the kitchen for taste-testing."

"That problem you have isn't testing, dad, it's that you can't stop once you start eating!"

Finch found that hard to believe when he looked at the powerful figure of his associate who didn't have an ounce of excess fat on him. He knew the big man exercised constantly to maintain his physique, and couldn't recall a time he'd seen Reese overeat.

The former agent beckoned the older man to join him in the living room, "Come on in and relax, Harold, we can watch the game, enjoy the smells coming from the kitchen, and die happy men with overfull stomachs at the end of the day."

The teenager appeared beside the billionaire with a steaming mug of his favorite tea, "Go ahead and join dad while I finish up in the kitchen, Uncle Harold. I'll be bringing in some appetizers shortly to hold everyone over until dinner."

Accepting the tea, he asked, "Is there anything I can do to be of assistance? I don't want you to do all the exertion and reap no rewards."

"I plan on eating the fruits of my labor, no fears on that score," she assured him as she made a shooing gesture to prompt him to go sit down.

He lowered himself to the chair next to the sofa John had moved for his comfort. It was easier for the older man to get up and down from the chair than the couch and the military man was very sensitive to the small nuances of his friend. Bear quickly came over to say hello once he was seated before lying down at his feet for a nap while Dakota kept looking to the kitchen, hoping for a bite of whatever smelled so good.

Ashlyn came in a bit later with bowls of hot broccoli cheese dip, chips, and rye bread and dip for them to eat, joining them for a bit as well. Quickly all three of them were enjoying the game, even the more reserved Harold commented on plays from time to time. When an alarm sounded from the kitchen, the girl scurried away, reminding the Sheltie pup to stay out of her domain when he tried to sneak in.

At four, the teen called her father away from his game to get the turkey out of the rotisserie and started placing dinner on the table. When the computer genius limped over, he was amazed at the amount of food and work she'd put in. Turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes with turkey gravy, sweet potatoes with marsh mellows, green bean casserole, deviled eggs, hot fresh baked rolls, a tossed salad, and several pies. Truly a feast and far too much food.

Everyone ate far too much, even the dogs were given small bites for the holiday, and there was still a lot left over. Both men helped Ashlyn get everything into containers, including a big batch to go when Harold left for later, and safely stored in the fridge before retiring to the living room. The youngster collapsed beside her parent who put an arm around her to tuck her into his side.

Placing a warm kiss on her head, John whispered, "You did good, baby. You made way too much and we'll be eating it for the next week, but it was delicious. I only wish you'd let us help more so you weren't overloaded."

"I heartily concur, Ashlyn, it was wonderful."

"Thanks, dad, Uncle Harold, but I enjoyed it." She snuggled in contentedly and was quickly sound asleep.

The two men shared a smile over the drowsing child and were soon joining her in an impromptu nap as the day faded.

The next day, Ashlyn packed up a huge lunch for the three of them and they spent the day working in and out of the library following leads on another number. The teen spent every opportunity she had digging into the Burke family's good fortune and was getting more and more desperate when she couldn't find anything.

Heather called her friend that weekend and gave her the next piece of the puzzle. Her mother, Lisa, had been contacted by a company that made the medications she needed for her health and asked her to be part of a new drug trial. Not only was the new med already showing huge signs of success, which was very good news for the family, but the trial came with a large monetary compensation for her time. She would be assigned her own personal physician to care for her and make sure everything was proceeding like it should, gas cards would be given to her at the start of the testing to be used as needed to get to her appointments, and all medical procedures to determine the exact nature of her illness and its progression or regression with the medication would be paid for by the company.

The fifteen year old was about at the point of panic. Everything was going too perfectly for the family with everything suddenly being handed to them on a silver platter, and none of them seemed concerned about it. They were simply too grateful to finally have some good luck coming their way.


	23. Chapter 23

Part 23

It was getting harder and harder to hide what she was doing from the two men. Harold was suspicious of the gaps in data on the computer system when he ran his regular checks (she was deleting things as she went, transferring data to her flash drive, and wiping out everything she could to keep them from following what she looked into). She tried to brush it away saying it was from work she was doing with Heather that she didn't want to have cluttering up space.

John woke in the middle of the night, some sixth sense urging him to check on his daughter, and found her awake in bed with her computer going. She didn't want to lie to him, they had promised not to, and said she was working on a problem Heather had stumped her with. He insisted the laptop be shut down and tucked her in.

The next few days were spent with John running all over the city dealing with an uncooperative number while Harold, stuck more and more in the library due to icy weather and Reese not wanting the risk him falling and getting hurt, grousing at the computer, his partner, the dogs, and his niece from frustration. When the former agent arrived one evening back at the office, he found the older man staring out the windows with a steaming mug of tea warming his hands.

He glanced around, "Where are the kids?" He hadn't seen his little girl hardly at all over the last couple of days and wanted to check in on her.

"Oh! John, I didn't hear you come in; I'm sorry, my mind was elsewhere." He looked around in confusion before a look of fear hit, "I don't know! I've been so preoccupied with everything I hadn't kept track of them!"

"Easy, Harold, the door to her study room is closed so she's likely in there with the dogs," John soothed as he turned to go down the hallway. He felt bad because with all the work he was putting into the current case, all three of them had to bed down in the library, when they were able to sleep at all. Opening the door to the girl's sanctum, he was shocked by her appearance and the sudden slamming shut of her laptop as she shot to her feet at his entrance. "Ashlyn? What's going on?"

"Nothing!" she yelped as she shoved the computer into her carrying case. "Are we going home tonight?"

He didn't budge from the doorway as she tried to ease past him; instead, he moved his legs so the animals could escape the coming battle and stepped towards his daughter, pushing the door closed behind him and flipping the lock. This was a talk he had hoped to never have and he didn't want to be disturbed.

"Sit," he ordered, pointing at the chair she had vacated, "now."

Knowing she was caught, dreading having to explain that she'd been working on something without their knowledge or consent, Ashlyn slowly returned to the chair and resumed her seat. She'd been using the computers illicitly to dig into the Burke family's background and had hacked without shame or remorse all kinds of sites to find out who was giving them all these rewards.

Dropping to one knee in front of her, John asked bluntly, "Are you taking any drugs?"

"What?" She was confused by the question, why on earth would he think she was doing drugs? "Of course not!"

"Then why do you look like you're strung out on something? I've seen enough drug users in my life to know that your appearance can be one of the signs of addiction." Reese captured the restlessly wringing hands of his daughter, stilling them, "You're pale, twitchy, dark circles under your eyes, talking rapidly, trying to hide things from me, and you look like you've not been eating. We finally got you back to a healthy weight for your age and size and you've not only lost that, but possibly more." Reaching up he touched her hair, pulled back in a messy ponytail, "When was the last time you washed your hair?"

Realizing he had good reason to question her and still hoping to avoid details, she scrambled around in her head for plausible answers that wouldn't be lies, "I've not felt like eating the last couple of days so I haven't; same with washing my hair. I just got involved with this problem of Heather's and lost track of everything else. I promise, dad, I'm not taking any drugs. None. You can have me tested if you want."

Watching her as closely as he was, John could see that she wasn't lying about the drug use, but there was something she was hiding and not telling him. Technically not being deceitful, but he didn't want it happening. "I don't need to have you tested, sweetheart, I can tell you're being truthful, but something is going on and you're going to tell me. This is non-negotiable, understand?"

"Dad…"

He held up a hand to stop her forthcoming protest, "No, Ashlyn. You're health is suffering from whatever it is that's going on and when it comes to your wellbeing, I'm not going to quibble or take no for an answer." He studied her face in distress, "I know that I've been gone a lot this past week and you've not had me around; we haven't even been able to go home because of this number in God knows when; and I'm sorry that I haven't been able to watch over you better. That is something that is going to change, right now." He leaned in closer to her, "What. Is. Going. On?"

Tears flooded her eyes. She was so tired and frustrated and desperately unhappy, and the last thing she wanted was her father believing it was partially or entirely his fault for not being available to her. At the same time, she hated to admit her own failings in not being able to find the answers to what she was looking for and didn't want to get the men involved in something when they already had so much to deal with.

Lowering her head so that she didn't have to meet his eyes as she confessed her weakness, she whispered, "Heather and her family are in trouble and I've been trying to figure out who's after them and why."

"What do you mean, 'in trouble'?"

She took a deep breath and plowed ahead, "Heather's scholarship was increased so she could take more classes, Chris got a new job with lots of perks and money, Ricky suddenly has all the money for his care that he needs, and Lisa is entering a program to test some new medications for her health and getting all kinds of free medical care and assistance."

A light bulb went off in John's head, though part of him was furious that she'd deceived him without actually lying, "So how are they in trouble? It seems to me that they are getting the things they need to make it. What's the problem?"

Ashlyn's head snapped up to meet the glittering dark eyes of the man in front of her. She hadn't heard that cold tone of voice directed at her before and not only was it unnerving, but it hurt deeply. He was infuriated with her and, though she knew he wouldn't actually hurt her, it still scared her to the point she had problems talking to him.

"No one gets good things like that. People aren't nice just to be nice. They always want something. Somebody's going to do something bad to them. I know it. I just haven't been able to prove it." She was speaking way too fast and stumbling over her words in the effort to make him understand, "I'm sorry, dad! You and Uncle Harold were so wrapped up in this case and I didn't want to add to your load. Please don't be mad at me!"

"I'm not just mad, Ashlyn Caitriana, I'm disappointed in you. You may not have lied to me, but you also didn't tell me the truth when I asked you before about what was going on. Either way, you were being purposefully deceptive. All of this could have been avoided if you'd just come and told me what was going on." He took a deep breath to bring his own emotions under control, "Heather and her family are fine. Harold and I are the ones who took care of everything. Chris is working in one of Finch's companies and Lisa is getting the medical care she needs from another. I set up everything with Ricky and saw to it that Heather got a big increase to her scholarship so she could continue with school."

"Why didn't you tell me you two were doing all that?" Ashlyn wailed, "Didn't you trust me?"

"Of course we trust you, Ashlyn, but we wanted to do this anonymously so the family didn't refuse what we were doing for them. They need a lot and by taking this approach, we made sure they weren't suspicious that someone was just giving them a handout or charity. Heather has done a lot for you and I wanted to make sure they were taken care of." He rose from his crouched position, "I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want this to possibly change the relationship you have with your friend. Heather is too important to you in so many ways; I don't want to cause any rifts; so we did everything in such a way it couldn't be tracked."

Looking up at the tall, powerful man, the teen shook her head, "It won't, dad, and I'm so sorry I didn't say anything to either of you about it. I thought I could find something on who was doing all this nice stuff for them and when I couldn't, I just kept digging myself in deeper and deeper."

John pulled her to her feet and into his arms, "You should know that despite how amazingly talented you are, you're still only fifteen and Harold has had many more years experience in hiding things from people."

"I know. He keeps saying he can't teach me anything, but he can and does a lot," she wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her head against the strong chest, listening to his reassuring heartbeat. "I'll try to do better, dad; I'm sorry."

"I know, baby, but you have to trust me with the little things as well as the big things." He held her close for several minutes before releasing her, "Now, we need to get you home so you can shower, change clothes, and eat something. We are officially off for the next few days."

Unlocking the door, John led the chastened child out to the main room where Harold was just returning from taking the dogs for a walk. Seeing the wan teenager, he immediately become concerned, "Is everything alright?"

"Not really, Harold, but it will be. Ashlyn decided that the good deeds we were doing for the Burke family were the acts of some nefarious person out to do them harm. She's been driving herself crazy looking into everything and not finding what she needed, hence her current physical condition. I'm taking her home to rest and get some food into her, but we won't be in the next couple of days." John cocked his head to look down at the girl, "However, I think our usual Sunday family dinner tomorrow night will still happen, just with someone else doing the cooking."

"I'd be happy to pick up something to bring over, John, just let me know what you'd like," Finch offered immediately.

"Thanks, Harold; we'll see you tomorrow and I'll call you in the morning." He wrapped an arm around the youngster to guide her to the steps, beckoning the dogs to follow, "Good night."

"Good night, John, Ashlyn."

"Night, Uncle Harold," came the soft voice of an exhausted girl.

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Ashlyn ate ravenously that evening after they stopped to pick up food. John was glad he picked up extra helpings of everything considering the way she went through it all. After things were cleaned up, she was sent in to take a long hot shower and change for bed while the military man took the dogs out. When he returned, she was still in the bathroom so he took the opportunity to trot upstairs and change into sweatpants and a tee shirt before settling on the couch and turning on the television.

The girl came out after a long while with her hair mostly dried and wearing clothing similar to her father's for the night; in her hand was a heavy brush. Reese directed her to sit on the floor between his feet as he took the brush from her and spread her long tresses across his leg and the couch to tend himself. Working from the ends up to her scalp in slow, unhurried strokes, he gently teased out all the snarls and tangles that had built up from a couple of days of neglect until he could easily groom the thick mass. Once that was done, he braided it into one long plait and secured the end with a hair band from the handle of the brush.

"Done," he said softly as he set the brush down on the table next to him. The girl didn't respond and he realized that her head was resting against his knee and the couch cushion, eyes closed, sound asleep. With a loving smile, he shifted position enough to be able to gather her up in his arms, lifting her easily, and carried her to her bedroom. Settling her in, John pulled the blankets up around her shoulders and leaned down to kiss her forehead, "Good night, sweetheart; love you."

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She slept in late the next morning and by the time she rose, her father had been up for several hours, taken the dogs for their morning walk, exercised in the training room, had breakfast, and had called Harold with an order for dinner that evening. When she sluggishly came out of her room, John settled her at the table with a large glass of chocolate milk, two eggs, some turkey sausage, and a plate of fruits. After thanking him, she attacked her food with gusto, almost inhaling everything placed before her.

"Slow down, sweetheart, before you choke," the big man admonished with a chuckle. "None of it's going to run away and if you want more, I have more to give you."

"Sorry, dad, it just tastes really good and I feel super hungry."

"That's because you've been starving yourself the last couple of days and your body needs the nutrients it's been missing. You get to spend the next week with me supervising your meals to make sure that you not only eat, but eat the right things to rebuild the weight you lost and provide you with proper balance so you don't get sick."

The girl made a slight face at that announcement, but figured she was getting off lightly considering what she'd done and what he could do. When she slowed down, Ashlyn finally asked, "When is Uncle Harold coming over?"

"Around 4:30; after we have dinner, we're going to talk about everything we did for Heather's family so you understand what was done and how. I know you won't say anything to her now that you know the situation and you may have some ideas of what we can do to further help them with Christmas coming up."

She nodded, "Thank you, dad."

Rising, Reese pressed his lips to the top of her head, "You're welcome, baby. Finish your breakfast; I'm going to go up and shower, then you and I are going to do a little shopping."

The girl just rolled her eyes. John's idea of shopping since she'd come into his life meant dropping huge sums of money on items and scaring the crap out of any sales associate who dared to get in his way.

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"Seriously?"

"Yep."

"You realize this could take a couple of hours, right?"

"We have plenty of time. We don't have to be back to the loft until four so you have three hours to look."

"Crap."

The owner of the rare bookstore was eying them from the counter and listening in on their conversation before venturing with, "Is there something I can help you folks find?"

John stared at the man for a minute as if contemplating to either respond verbally or shoot him before deciding to put the now antsy guy out of his misery with a smile, "No, thank you. Just looking."

Ashlyn nudged him with an elbow and hissed, "Quite baring your teeth at him, dad; you're going to give him a heart attack."

Returning his attention to the girl beside him, Reese gave her a gentle nudge in the direction of the bookshelves, "Come on, kid, get cracking."

With a sigh, the teenager started at the first set of shelves and began slowly working her way down the line, back up the other side, and then on to the next unit. Every once in a great while, she cautiously lifted a book down, checked it over, and either handed it to her silent follower, or returned it to the place she got it. Two hours and thirty five minutes later, she reached the last book and heaved a sigh of relief, "Done."

"Good job, sweetheart, your punishment is complete."

She followed him back to the front of the store where John handed the six books he carried over to the owner, announcing, "We'll take these."

The old man slowly accepted the stack and checked through them so he could mark them off his inventory. Finally, his curiosity got the best of him, "I know I shouldn't be nosy, but what was that all about?"

When he father just stared through the poor guy, Ashlyn spoke up, "My punishment for something I did was to go through all of your books and figure out the ones my uncle doesn't have so we could get them for him for Christmas."

He gawked at the teen, "How on earth were you supposed to know what he has or doesn't have?"

"I have perfect recall and I've gone through his personal library enough to know exactly what he has, so really it was just time-consuming and irritating to walk through the entire store when we could have just looked at your inventory list."

"Punishment," John growled.

"Yeah, yeah," she retorted.

After paying for the books, they stopped at another store to pick up wrapping paper, tape, bows, and gift tags with Ashlyn muttering, "And I suppose another part of my punishment is that I get to wrap all these?"

"Yep."

"Delightful."

"Yep."


	24. Chapter 24

Part 24

Professor Sipe smiled at his youngest student when she came in on Tuesday, "You look much better than you did last week. Were you coming down with something?"

"Apparently," she told him, not elaborating, "but dad took care of me over the weekend and I feel great, now."

"That's good," David said. While the girl's parent scared the life out of him personally, the teacher had seen first hand how much the man adored and doted on his only child. Those ice cold blue eyes warmed when they rested on the teen and his face, usually carved from granite, would soften with her.

She settled at her computer station and turned on the system. One of the great things about this class was that when they were assigned homework, they could email it to the professor when done so they didn't have to worry about losing it. It also cut down on excuses by some students, though a few had tried to claim "computer problems" to get more time. David Sipe just leveled a look at them and pointed out that it was a computer class, they should know how to get around the so-called problem, and there were also plenty of libraries with computers in them.

Heather hurried in, dumping her purse and bag under the desk as she turned on the computer, "Hey, Ash, how was your weekend? You look like you got some rest!"

"It was good, and yes, I did a lot of sleeping to get over whatever I'd come down with. How about you?"

Grey eyes sparkled, "Dad is loving this new job and mom actually felt well enough with the new meds that we all went to the movies on Saturday and out to eat on Sunday." She leaned over so no one else could hear their conversation, "They actually were able to catch up on all the bills and said that we'll be able to have a real Christmas this year. We haven't had one in so long; this is going to be great!"

Ashlyn grinned at her friend, "I'm so happy for you guys, Heather. We'll have to get together some time so I can give you all your gifts."

"I'll check with mom and dad to see what's going on for the holidays and see what we can do. Maybe you can stay at our place one night before New Years and we can do it then."

The bell in the hall rang, interrupting their conversation and they turned their attention back to the class and the professor.

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Ashlyn had to do some holiday shopping and didn't want to do it with her father breathing down her neck since some of the gifts she wanted to get were for him. She had considered a beautiful old sniper rifle she found online but was too young to get it and when she asked Harold for help, he'd just looked appalled and hurried for his private office. Two books from the store they'd gone to the previous weekend she had mentally laid aside for her to get the billionaire, and she wanted to make a stop there to get them. The problem she faced was lack of transportation. If she tried to take a bus or a cab, John would freak.

Finally, she decided to try a combination attack. She asked her father to take her shopping for Heather and her family's gifts, her uncle to take her to get John's gifts (non-weaponry in deference to Finch's feelings), and Heather to run her to the bookstore for Harold's. She really couldn't wait until she turned sixteen come April so she could get her license.

Plans were made for the celebration of Christmas as carefully as if they were running an op. Christmas Eve was going to be just Ashlyn and John; they were having breakfast at home, then visiting a photography studio to have pictures done before going to a small church close to the loft (at Ashlyn's request) that had a mid-afternoon service of traditional carols. Afterwards, they had reservations for dinner out at a new restaurant and then a drive through one of the huge holiday light displays. That night, the two were planning to exchange one gift with each other before bedtime.

Christmas Day would be a relaxing day of family and leisure with the two opening the rest of their presents after breakfast (cereal so neither had to cook), watching the parades on TV, lunch of leftovers from the restaurant the night before, Harold was due to arrive at one and they would exchange gifts again before watching a couple of Christmas movies. Dinner was going to be nothing but appetizers (fresh fruits and veggies with dip, rye bread with dip, chips and more dip, and a whole host of unhealthy things that could be thrown in the oven and warmed up), again so no one had to cook; followed by another movie or two.

A couple of days before, Ashlyn and John had gone shopping for all the food items needed for the holiday and set up a timeline for what needed to be baked and when. The girl had decided to make a big batch of hot spiced cider that could be put in the massive slow cooker for everyone to drink out of through the day, staying away from adding alcohol out of respect for Harold, though John brought in some beer for himself.

While the military man wasn't fond of having pictures taken of himself, for obvious reasons, he wanted to get a portrait of his daughter and himself along with several single shots of the girl in different poses, backgrounds, and props. The photographer, Sean Corzine, was yet another former number who was ecstatic at being able to do something to repay Reese for helping him. When they arrived, they found he had a huge variety of items for them to look at and choose from for their pictures, far more than John had thought possible.

As soon as they were through the door, Sean flipped the lock and closed sign so no one disturbed them, knowing a little about the big man who had saved his life. He directed the former agent to a pair of changing rooms where he placed the bags with changes of clothing for later. The small group looked over the various backgrounds and chose several for the family shots along with props before picking out more for just the teen who finally was able to talk her father into a couple of individual pictures of him for her to have.

The pair had gone over what outfits to wear to compliment each other and he had insisted on her bringing jewelry along. Ashlyn wore her long hair loose with only the front pulled back, a style John felt served to highlight her delicate features to perfection. After changing into their first set of clothing, John in an all black ensemble while his daughter wore an exquisite emerald green dress and matching jewelry, they allowed themselves to be placed in all kinds of positions with different backgrounds and props before doing more wardrobe changes.

When it was all over with, they were able to look through the digital photos to decide which ones they liked best and order from there. They picked several of the two of them together, one in particular was chosen to be enlarged and framed to hang on the wall at home. It was of John seated in a chair wearing a vibrant cobalt blue dress shirt that was open at the throat as he gazed steadily at the camera, a slight smile on his good-looking face. Behind him, with her arms wrapped around his neck and her head resting lightly against his own, was Ashlyn wearing a deep grey dress that brought out her eyes. The smile on her face was stunning and lit her whole expression with love and happiness. The background behind them was a realistic photo of the ocean at sunset, the colors enhancing the pair beautifully.

The pictures she chose of her father included one of him in the same shirt but he was leaning against a red brick wall looking slightly off-camera and into the distance; she thought he looked handsome and regal, Sean privately thought he looked more lethal than ever. Kind of like a panther lounging on a tree branch waiting for his unsuspecting prey to wander by so he could ambush them. Another picture was a candid the photographer had captured of the big man laughing delightedly at something the girl had said; Sean hadn't seen that side of the former agent before and had been surprised he was able to laugh.

John had gone through the shots of his daughter carefully, picking out quite a few for both himself and some for Harold. His favorite was of her seated on the arm of a black suede chair with her legs crossed at the ankle and tucked slightly behind her. She was wearing a coral dress that had a matching necklace and earrings with her hair swept mostly over one shoulder to fall to the seat of the chair. Ashlyn had one arm resting on the back of the chair while the other fell gracefully to her lap and was smiling warmly (he had been standing behind Sean and had grinned at her to get her to get her response).

Once they were done choosing pictures, they put on the clothes they'd brought along for church and drove over to the small building for the service. Being visitors to a little congregation, they were warmly welcomed and invited to join the social circle occurring afterwards. John purposefully chose a pew almost at the back of the sanctuary near a door (he had to have his quick exit when needed) and settled his daughter next to him with her hymnal and bulletin.

Growing up, the girl and her mother had been allowed to attend church with Arndt mainly because it made the family look good, and Ashlyn took comfort in her faith. While it had been time out of the house she'd been barricaded in most of her life, she enjoyed the time worshiping with others and had been looking forward to this for several weeks.

Personally, John could take or leave religion; he'd seen and done too much in his life to be truly comfortable with something so organized and, in his opinion, fraught with constant strife and arguments, as if he didn't see enough of that on a daily basis. No one could agree on any one point about their faith and he wasn't the type of person to tolerate someone telling him he was wrong about what he believed or didn't. But for his only child, he would sit through the occasion service if it made her happy.

Though a small church of only seventy five regular attending people, they were an old one, the building alone dated back over one hundred years and there were some upgrades that had been done. The best one was the magnificent organ that took up much of the choir loft at the rear of the sanctuary. They had also found themselves a young man who was an absolute whiz at playing it, Wes Keeley. He could make the instrument do everything but sit up and beg for supper he was so talented and many of the older women in the congregation had made elaborate plots to hook the handsome blond up with their daughters or granddaughters. Much to their chagrin, no one had been successful as yet, but they still held out hope.

Leaning against her father's warm side, Ashlyn looked through the bulletin and talked softly to the man while other people filed in to find seats. The quiet strains of _Silent Night_ suddenly drifted down from the loft as Wes began playing the prelude for the service, transitioning easily from one song to another in a medley of traditional hymns. The pastor entered with an assistant minister and welcomed everyone before inviting them to rise and sing the opening song.

Having heard the girl sing at home, John knew she had a sweet, light, high soprano voice that delighted him on the rare occasions she used it and he wasn't disappointed when they started singing. Ashlyn joined in the melody for the first and second verse before launching into a beautiful descant the third and fourth, bringing a smile to John's handsome face and startled, then approving looks from the people around them. Throughout the rest of the service, she would do this and he knew that they were going to be inundated with eager people wanting to steal her away for their choir or to sing as soloist for the church. The former agent had a decent voice himself, a soft rich baritone, but he was content singing along with everyone else and had never been good at harmonizing like the teen.

As the pastor was closing the service and inviting everyone to stay for coffee, hot chocolate, and Christmas cookies in the fellowship hall, John caught a slight movement above and slightly behind them and cautiously looked up. He spotted the organist nearly hanging off the balcony trying to get a good look at Ashlyn and heaved a sigh.

As soon as the ministers passed them to the exit, John stepped out of the pew and drew the girl along with him. Knowing it was expected didn't exactly make it easier, but he was able to drum up some extra patience for the meet and greet in the line and allowed himself to be directed to the hall where several women were already stationed to pour him coffee and offer an endless supply of brightly decorated cookies. From the sanctuary, he could hear the organ rushing a bit through the postlude and knew the man would be scrambling down the stairs as soon as he could in search of the teen next to him.

Happily oblivious to the sensation she had created among the congregants and organist, Ashlyn accepted a large mug of hot chocolate with tiny marsh mellows floating on top and picked out several cookies. Following her father to a table nearest to the exit outside, she took the seat beside him and had a cautious sip before announcing her contentment with a soft, "Mmmmm, real chocolate."

John chuckled lovingly, "You and your chocolate. I'm amazed in the time you've been with me that you haven't gained a hundred pounds just from chocolate alone."

"That's because I know how to eat it in moderation and exercise my tail off so I don't pack on the weight. Come spring, I plan on being able to go running with you in the mornings rather than just on the treadmill at home."

"I'd like that, sweetheart," he murmured as he lightly tugged one long black tress as a slightly harried young man entered the room and looked frantically around. Spotting them, he quickly began heading in their direction. "We're about to have a visitor, kiddo."

Wes had been worried that the duo would leave before he could get a chance to talk to the teen with the beautiful voice so when he saw them in the fellowship hall, he didn't stop to think things through. Walking straight up to the table, he extended his hand to the young woman instantly, "Hello, I'm Wes Keeley, the organist and choir director…" Before he could get any further, his hand was taken, but not by the girl.

Gripping the offered hand in a very firm way, John immediately had the younger man's attention as he rose to tower over him, "I'm John Shepherd and this is my daughter, Ashlyn."

Realizing his mistake instantly, Wes instinctively changed his posture to one that was less threatening to appease the big man who could break his wrist with very little effort, "Mr. Shepherd, a pleasure to meet you and welcome. I don't recall seeing you here before, is this your first visit?"

Mollified by the change, John released his grip, "Yes it is."

The cold blue eyes made him uncomfortable, but Wes pushed himself to continue, "And are you looking for a church home or just passing through?"

"I haven't decided yet," he growled. This was one of the reasons he wasn't keen on visiting churches, they always wanted to get him to join before he was barely in the door.

Hoping that he'd soothed the man enough to try talking to the girl, the musician smiled down at her, "Hello, Ashlyn, it's nice to meet you."

She didn't bother to shake hands, her father would have found some excuse to block it, "Thank you, it's a pleasure to meet you, too. The music was outstanding; I don't know that I've ever heard an organ played so well before."

Sinking into the chair beside her, all concentration now focused on her despite the glower being directed his way by the irritated father, Wes beamed, "Thanks, I've been playing ever since I can remember, but I really wanted to talk to you about your singing. I could hear you doing descants to the hymns and I've never heard most of them before; who's your teacher?"

"I don't have one, I just love to sing and can usually 'hear' the harmonies for a song so I sing them."

"We'd love to have you sing with our choir if you're interested, and as a soloist. With your range and natural ability, you'd be an outstanding addition!"

While Wes continued to gush over his daughter, John was quietly contemplating how to get away with justifiable homicide on Christmas Eve without upsetting the girl and ruining her holiday. As he played a few scenarios over in his head, he was surprised when the pastor eased into the chair next to him with a smile.

"Wes is completely harmless, I can assure you, though I quite agree with him. I'm Pastor Phil Reinemann, welcome and Merry Christmas." The man was extremely thin with greying light brown hair and penetrating hazel eyes that met John's gaze briefly before sliding past to observe the other pair at the table.

"John Shepherd," he supplied quietly to be polite. "Your 'harmless' organist is barking up the wrong tree trying to convince her come sing for him. If she doesn't want to, she won't and all the begging in the world won't get him anywhere but in trouble." His eyes narrowed when the blond scooted his chair just the slightest bit closer to the teen in his bid for her voice. "And if he gets any closer to her, they may as well be married."

The pastor smiled benignly at the big man as he leaned back in his seat, "Truly, John, he is harmless, especially to your daughter. Even if she were old enough, she wouldn't be his type."

Startled as well as irritated that he'd missed it, Reese took another look at the musician, noting the slightly effeminate gestures, impeccable clothing, hair combed just right, and the fact he was gushing over the singing voice of a stunningly beautiful young woman. Turning back to the other man he quirked an eyebrow, "I thought most churches were less than welcoming to such individuals."

"We are not like other churches, which is part of why Wes is so comfortable and welcome here. We do not pass judgment on others since only our Lord is able to do so without prejudice; all are invited to come and worship freely." Phil smiled as he watched the wheels spin in the military man's head. John Shepherd struck him as a fair man with very strong moral principals who won't turn his back on someone because of their race, color, belief, sexuality, or anything else unless they proved to be untrustworthy.

"Thank you, pastor; you've given me something to think about." John rose and held out a big paw to his child, "Ready, sweetheart?"

Accepting it instantly, Ashlyn stood with a smile for the downcast organist, "It was nice to meet you, Wes, and thank you for the invitation to join the choir. Have a nice Christmas."

"You, too, Ashlyn, Mr. Shepherd." He watched as the man guided his daughter out the door closest to them with a sigh.

Pastor Phil reached over and patted his arm, "Don't fret yourself into a tizzy, Wes; I have a feeling we may be seeing the Shepherds again in the near future." He smiled as the younger man visibly brightened at the thought.


	25. Chapter 25

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Part 25

John and Ashlyn stopped by the loft to spend some time with the dogs and change clothes for dinner since they had a couple of hours to kill. Bear and Dakota were both amped up and it took some hefty walking and fetch to finally run them out of steam so they collapsed into their doggy beds. The new restaurant they were going to was very upscale, meaning the big man had to don an actual tux while the teen finally had the chance to wear one of the gorgeous gowns he'd bought for her.

She chose the burgundy with its sweetheart neckline, beaded waist, and short sleeves; pairing it with a dainty silver chain that had a pink diamond heart charm, a tennis bracelet of more pink diamonds, and matching earrings. She lightly accented her natural beauty with a touch of makeup and was ready to go. Her father was as lavish in his compliments to her as she was to him, and she was surprised when they went to the door and John reached into the coat closet for his heavy black trench and also came out with a knee length white faux fur. Slipping it over her shoulders he smiled at how it enhanced her loveliness, the contrast between the deep color of the dress, her black hair, ice green eyes, and white fur was exactly how he'd pictured it.

He double-checked that his weapons were in their proper places before escorting her out the door.

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Pulling up in front of the restaurant, they were instantly greeted by uniformed men who opened their doors and a valet to park for them. Escorting his daughter inside was an indescribable feeling for John. He'd been to a few places similar to this over the years and sometimes had a woman on his arm, but none could hold a candle to the young lady with him at this moment. He was immensely proud that she was his child, the product of the love he'd shared with Jessica, and that she had turned out the way she had. Ashlyn was completely unaware of her beauty, was sweet-natured to a fault, had a gentleness to her that drew people, and he absolutely adored her.

Their greeter led them to their table and while the girl tried hard to ignore the stares they were receiving, John made direct eye contact with many of them and forced them to look away. Most men recognized him for what he was: an alpha predator in his prime, a very dangerous wolf protecting his family, a man to be avoided at all costs. When they reached their seats, Reese gently eased the coat from his daughter's shoulders before shrugging out of his own while the greeter pulled out her chair. He handed both coats to the man who assured them their waiter would be with them shortly and he would personally take care of their outerwear.

Picking up the menus, they opened them and looked through the huge selection laid out in careful categories: beef, pork, poultry, seafood, and lamb. Judging by the looks on the faces of other diners, the food was excellent and the number of staff assured constant service when needed for anything. A greying man a few years older than John appeared at their table with a bow, "Good evening, sir, miss. My name is Keith, how are you this lovely Christmas Eve?"

"Hello, Keith, we're doing well, thank you," John rumbled softly. Despite the times he'd gone out with Finch to fancier places, he still was uncomfortable with such deferential service from waiters and waitresses.

"May I start you out with something to drink? Or tempt you with one of our delicious appetizers?" He looked to the lady of the table first and Ashlyn quickly skimmed the drink selection before smiling up at the man and requesting chocolate milk and water.

Her father chuckled under his breath; as if there were any doubt she'd order chocolate milk, the girl was a chocoholic, but as she said, she ate it in moderation, "Just water for me, thanks."

Keith nodded as he wrote their drinks down, "And any appetizers? Our chef makes marvelous scallops three ways, or we have fresh shrimp and cocktail sauce…"

"Both," the big man decreed, "and a bowl of New England clam chowder for each of us, please."

"Certainly, I'll be right back."

The teen smiled at her father, "How did you know I was thinking about the clam chowder?"

"Because I can read minds, sweetheart, didn't you know that?" She nudged him under the table with her foot as she made a face and he laughed, "I saw you eying the next table over when theirs came out and took a wild guess."

Tossing her long hair back over her shoulders, Ashlyn went back to perusing the menu until their waiter returned with drinks and asked if they were ready to order. She nodded to her father to start so she had a few more moments to make up her mind.

"Steak," John stated, "rare with a large baked potato, all the trimmings, a side of sautéed mushrooms, steamed broccoli, and a large chef salad with ranch dressing."

Keith scribbled quickly to keep up with the man's rapid-fire order before turning to Ashlyn, "And for the lady?"

"I've always wanted to try quail," she said with a questioning look at Reese. He nodded and she continued, "With fresh mint sauce, garlic green beans, wild rice with fresh mushrooms, and I'd also like a chef salad with ranch."

"Excellent, I'll turn these in to the chef and be right back with your appetizers." He gathered up their menus and hurried away while the two talked softly about the church service they'd been to.

"If you truly want to attend regularly, Ashlyn, you know I'll make sure you get there; but I can't make any guarantees that I'll be comfortable enough to go more than once in a while. I like the pastor and enjoyed his sermon today, but you can't always go with what they do for special services."

She nodded, "I know, dad, and I understand. I don't know if I'd like to go every week, but I think I'd like to try it. Besides, they're within walking distance from home so you won't have to figure out how to get me there and back."

He made a face at that suggestion causing her to laugh. Overprotective didn't even begin to cover her dad's feelings when it came to her safety and honestly she couldn't fault him considering her life to this point. Their waiter, returning with the appetizers, couldn't help but smile at the girl's sweet laughter as he approached the table.

Placing individual plates in front of each of them along with their bowls of chowder, he then put the shared food in the middle so they could help themselves to whatever they wanted. John nodded to his daughter to take hers first and the teen picked out a few fresh shrimp with a spoonful of cocktail sauce and a bit of each of the scallops. She then waited until he served himself before taking her first bite of scallop. When she closed her eyes in bliss, the former agent grinned and ate the same thing to see if he felt the same way.

Their waiter hid his own smile when the large, intimidating man also closed his eyes to savor the bite. He knew that they had one of the top chefs in the city working there and judging by the empty plates that returned to the kitchen, most people agreed; Keith also happened to like the man in charge of the kitchen as he wasn't a temperamental jerk like many successful chefs were.

The pair continued to enjoy their starters, finding that everything was made to perfection, flavorful, and very fresh. Their table was located, as always, at the back of the restaurant and near an exit with John sitting so he could face the room and no one could come up behind him. Ashlyn's seat had a lovely view of the garden attached to the building, currently filled with a variety of Christmas trees, lights, and decorations that she occasionally pointed out to her father.

Keith reappeared to sweep away the empty plates and replace them with their salads, teeming with fresh veggies, meats, and cheese. By that point, they were almost full from everything, but were certainly game when the entrees showed up. They each had a couple of bites of everything before regretfully asking that it be boxed up to take home. John then made his daughter's evening complete by ordering three of each dessert on the menu to take home as well (since Harold was coming over the next day, they would have enough for him to get a share).

Their waiter carefully boxed everything up in the back and handed it off to a kitchen runner to meet them out front with. The restaurant had a policy that it was inappropriate to ask their customers to carry their food through the dining room and out the door, so someone brought it out through a hallway that came out at the front door and a runner placed it in the vehicle for them.

As they were waiting for their carryout to be finalized, Ashlyn looked out the windows near them again and caught her breath, "Dad" she whispered, "look! It's starting to snow!"

Turning slightly in his chair, John followed her bright gaze and saw the large flakes drifting down. It was the first snow of the season and she was thrilled for it to start on Christmas Eve; if it continued, they were sure to have a truly white Christmas.

She turned worried eyes on her father, "Will Uncle Harold still be able to come over tomorrow if it snows?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Reese assured her. "I'll plan on going to pick him up in the morning and he can stay with us for a couple of days if necessary. That way he doesn't have to try to get to his car, walk, or try to drive in this." His overprotective streak was almost as wide with his friend as it was with his only child.

Their waiter appeared with a small leather-bound folder, "Will there be anything else we can do to make your evening complete?"

John was shaking his head even as he placed several large bills inside and handed it back, "No, thank you. The meal was excellent; please extend our compliments to the chef and his staff, and the service was impeccable."

Keith found himself captured by the girl's intense eyes as she smiled brilliant up at him, "It started snowing!"

Following her discretely pointing finger even as he accepted the payment from the big man, he saw what she was so excited about. Though not a huge fan of the mess snow left behind when it was done, he happened to agree with the beautiful girl that the first snow of the season, especially a Christmas snow, was magical, "So it is, child, thank you for showing me. I fear I wouldn't have even noticed until my shift was done and I walked out into it." He lifted the billfold, "I will be back directly with your change, sir."

"Keep it, with our thanks and wish for a Merry Christmas," John told him as he rose and pulled out his daughter's seat.

"Thank you, sir, and Merry Christmas to both of you. Be careful on your drive home this evening." He then let them know their runner would be waiting for them at the entrance and he had already taken the liberty of having their car brought to the door for them so it would be warming up.

Reese thanked him as he gently directed the teen through the tables to the entry where their greeter from earlier was holding their coats. Making a quick decision, John shrugged out of his tux coat and undid his tie before pulling on the trench and slipping the man a substantial tip. He figured they were going to be in the car for a while yet, he was going to be comfortable while they drove.

Snuggled warmly in her faux fur, Ashlyn took her father's arm as he led her out to where their car waited with the runner right behind them carrying several bags to place in the back seat of the SUV. Once he was sure she was settled, John handed the young runner a tip and gave another to the valet who stood by the driver's door. Both men beamed at him for his generosity and wished them both a Merry Christmas. Handling the car expertly on the wet roads, the duo made their way to one of the biggest holiday light displays in the area and sat in a line of other cars that slowly made their way the spectacle. Neither had ever done anything like it before and thoroughly enjoyed themselves; pointing out things to one another, rolling the windows down so they could hear the music playing from myriad speakers, and just being together and celebrating their first Christmas.

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When they got home, both retired to their respective rooms to change clothes and the girl brushed out her hair before braiding it out of the way for the night. They had gone out a couple of weeks prior to purchase decorations and a tree and spent an entire weekend putting everything out. John had to work with the teen on teaching Dakota to leave things alone, but he was a smart pup and learned quickly. They met back at the front door where they donned coats again and gathered up the two dogs for a romp in the snow that was painting the ground white.

Back inside, Reese put their dinner and desserts away while Ashlyn made them both large mugs of hot chocolate which they carried to the living room. Stretching out on the floor by the tree on his left side the military man smiled as his offspring sat cross-legged in front of him, almost bouncing in her excitement at her first Christmas with him. Reaching under the low branches, John extracted an envelope which he handed to the girl, while she pulled out a package for him.

Nodding to her to go first, he watched as she opened the sealed packet and two tickets dropped into her hand. Eyes wide, she had to read what was printed on them several times before it actually clicked, "You got us tickets to a Within Temptation concert?"

"Yes," he said softly. "I promised you that one day I would take you after hearing that song when you first moved in here. Did you notice where they're playing?"

She studied the tickets again before squeaking, "Ireland?!"

"I thought we could take a few days to poke around the Emerald Isle before ending our trip with the concert. I take it you like the…?"

Before he could finish, the girl was tackling him in her enthusiasm while chanting, "Thank you, I love it!" over and over. He just chuckled as he hugged her close.

When she finally stopped strangling him and sat up, the teen handed him her brightly wrapped package. John slowly opened the box and lifted out an exquisite blown glass ornament in the shape of a heart about the size of his hand. Etched and outlined in silver across one side were their names and the date for Christmas while on the other was _Dad, Merry 1__st__ Christmas! I love you, Ashlyn._

With tears darkening his deep blue eyes, John sat up and drew his daughter into his arms tightly, "Thank you, baby, I love you, too. More than words can ever say."

After holding her close for several minutes, he released her and pushed himself to his feet so he could hang the ornament near the top of the tree, out of reach of wagging tails. Ashlyn rose with him and wrapped her arms around his waist as they admired the way the glass and silver shimmered in the twinkling lights.

After a few minutes, the pair moved to the couch so they could drink their hot chocolate and watch Christmas shows until they were both nearly asleep. John forced himself off the couch, lifted his uncomplaining child, and carried her in to tuck her into bed with a kiss on the forehead. Returning to the living room, John shrugged into a coat to take the dogs out one more time and when they returned, he turned off the lamps and stretched out on the couch to stare at the tree and lights. His mind slipped back to his days with Jessica before fast forwarding to finding out he had a daughter and everything they'd been through the last few months. He slowly drifted to sleep.


	26. Chapter 26

Part 26

A slight sound in the room nudged at John's awareness, bringing him slowly out from the dream he was having where Jessica was still alive and they were raising their child together. He fought waking up, trying to cling just a little longer to the comfort of the dream-world, it helped that he was nicely warm, resting on something soft, and his body was totally relaxed.

Just as the dream took control again, a cold wet nose on the back of his neck jarred him into reality with a strangled yelp. He had been lying on the couch, facing the back cushions, and he nearly gave himself whiplash flipping over to face the warm sparkling brown eyes of his daughter's beloved sheltie. John could have sworn he saw mischief lurking in their depths as Dakota cocked his head and chattered softly at him as only a sheltie could.

He growled, narrowing his blue eyes at the unrepentant puppy whose tail was wagging so hard he could barely stay on his feet. Hearing his Alpha's voice, Bear came bouncing over to stick a wet, slimy ball in the man's face. It was all the big man could do to not respond with disgust, knowing the dog was simply gifting his master with something he loved and thought John would love as well.

Sitting up with a sigh, he tossed the ball into a far corner for the Belgian to chase and glowered at the pup, "Why didn't you wake Ashlyn instead of me you little ball of fuzz?" The blue merle place his front feet lightly on the man's knee and chuffed at him, tail still going like mad. He was abruptly moved out of the way as Bear returned with the ball and simply used one broad shoulder to get Dakota away from the man.

Standing, John made eye contact with the shepherd until he sat and looked away before turning his gaze on the pup who dropped his gaze immediately. Satisfied that he had maintained the hierarchy of the pack, the big man went to get their leashes to take them out. Being Alpha, even of a pack mixed with canine and humans, he had to remind the dominant Bear sometimes of who was actually in charge. Dakota, fortunately, was a very Zen Omega who didn't try to be aggressive in any way. Ashlyn was the established Alpha female and she'd worked hard with the Belgian to make him understand that he needed to listen to her commands just as much as he did John's. Bear considered himself the pack's Beta, second in command to the Alphas, though Reese had made it clear to him that he was to listen to commands from Harold as well. The big dog listened, but he occasionally challenged the older man, usually when John wasn't around to correct him, and Harold didn't know enough about dogs to be able to stop the test when it came. Bear would never hurt Finch, in fact he would die to protect any of the pack members, but he also wasn't going to give up what he perceived as his place in the pecking order.

After pulling on his coat, John led the way to the door, opened it, and stepped out, then froze in his tracks causing both dogs to bump into him from behind. Cautiously, he exited the building, careful of the thick layering of white on the ground. It had apparently snowed through the night, still was in fact, and they now had about five inches covering everything. Bear thought it was great fun and bounded into the snow, making little tunnels with his nose and flipping it onto his back before prancing around gleefully. Dakota, on the other hand, was not as jubilant as his big brother and edged carefully into the cold wet stuff. Watching the other dog, he tried putting his nose in the snow and ended up going into a sneezing fit when he accidently inhaled some of it.

Their master chuckled as he watched the pair react so differently. When Bear tired of making trails, he pounced at the pup and bowled him over into the snow. Dakota gave a yip of distress as he scrambled to his feet and shook mightily before trying to tackle the larger dog and failing. He let them play and tumble through the snow for about ten minutes before urging them to finish so they could get back inside.

When they returned to the warmth of the loft, John took them off lead and opened the closet so he could hang up his coat. Picking up a doggy towel to dry the furballs, he found them MIA and a sudden shriek from his daughter's room told him where they had gone. Standing in the doorway, he looked in to find the girl buried under dripping animals that were doing their level best to dry themselves off by burrowing into and around her.

Finally struggling free and getting off the now wet bed, the teen scowled at her pets, "Monsters. You're not supposed to wake people up on Christmas Day by attacking and soaking them in their own beds."

Bear glanced over at her with a wave of his long tail before shoving himself under her pillows and wiggling madly while Dakota didn't pause a second as he inundated himself in a nest he made of her blankets. "Nice," she muttered, "now I'm going to have to wash and dry everything before I get to go to bed tonight. Beasts."

Laughing, John stepped into her room and walked over to the bed, "I had the towel to dry them, but they took off before I could." He swiped the towel over the shepherd's nose when it appeared from under a pillow and the dog instantly seized it for a brief tug-o-war. Before the man could tell him to release it, the sheltie crawled out and took the opportunity to bounce on his big brother who let go of the towel and shot out of the bed, Dakota in hot pursuit.

"In case you didn't figure it out by the soaking wet creatures in your bed this morning, there's snow on the ground and they got to play in it."

Ice green eyes lit up and the girl suddenly scurried past him, out into the living room, and nearly plastered herself to the huge windows. Her father followed, watching her with a smile as she gazed out at the winter wonderland the world had become overnight. One would think Ashlyn had never beheld snow before, but she had always loved the beauty of the season's first snowfall before it either melted away or turned to grey sludge from the dirt of the city. Grabbing the throw from the couch as he passed, John approached his daughter and enveloped her in its warmth as he wrapped his arms around her from behind and hugged her to his chest.

"Merry Christmas, baby."

"Merry Christmas, dad." Ashlyn leaned back against the strong form of her father, relishing in his loving embrace as she watched the snow continuing to slowly drift to the ground.

They remained there for a long while until the dogs began an earnest plea for breakfast. John reluctantly let her go and she was as hesitant to leave, but routine had to be followed and the dogs had been patient up to this point. While the girl changed into something appropriate to hang around the loft for the day, the military man fed both critters and pulled out bowls, milk, and boxes of cereal for breakfast. By the time she returned, the dogs were happily cleaning their bowls and food was on the table.

They talked while eating and John informed the teen that he would be going to get Harold later on so the man didn't try to drive in the snow. She believed that he would likely need to stay with them a day or two so while they was gone, she would get the bed they had recently purchased and placed in the corner of John's office ready so the billionaire would have a comfortable place to crash as well as someplace private he could retreat to when needed.

After cleaning up from breakfast, the pair returned to the living room to go through the rest of their presents, dogs included. Knowing it would be easier to let the critters have part of theirs first so they had something to occupy themselves, John reached under the couch where he'd hid the plastic wrapped chew treats. As soon as he sat on the floor beside the teen both animals dove into sitting positions in front of him, tails wagging frantically, tongues lolling as they eagerly anticipated what he had. Opening the plastic, Reese handed Bear the first rolled rawhide and Dakota the second. Both took the offerings gently as trained and retreated to settle on the floor, chewing happily.

Pets taken care of, the big man pulled a variety of gifts out and placed them in front of his daughter, "Go ahead, sweetheart, start opening."

Knowing he had to have gone overboard, Ashlyn was prepared for what was to come. Exquisite jewelry to add to her collection, numerous sets of clothing in different styles and colors, framed pictures of various things she loved such as wolves and big cats, board games they could play together, books on new languages for them to learn, and, lastly, a catalog. She looked at the booklet strangely before turning her attention to her father, "Okay, so why do I have a catalog of furniture, housewares, and decorations? I thought we had everything we needed?"

"We'll get to that one in a bit," he promised. She nodded acceptance and hugged him thoroughly while thanking him for everything. Ashlyn then handed him the gifts she'd found for him. John loved the new knife she'd picked out for him (since Heather was eighteen, she'd been able to help the younger girl get it), several books on weaponry and their history, the old sniper rifle she'd found online (Harold simply would not bend on helping her get it so she'd contacted Detective Carter for help), and two framed pictures: one of her mother, Jessica, smiling directly at the camera, and the other of Ashlyn around the age of ten with Jessica.

"I hope I didn't upset you with those, dad, but I thought you might like to have a couple of photos of mom and these were the best ones of her I had."

Blinking back tears, John pulled his daughter close and held her tightly, "Thank you, baby, I love them. All of it; you did way too much." She just shook her head and burrowed close.

When they finally pulled apart, the man rose, tugging the teen up with him and they got comfortable on the couch. Turning on the TV so they could watch the parade when it came on, John tucked the youngster into his side and spread the throw across both of them. He pulled out his phone and tapped one of the speed dials, not surprised when it was picked up on the first ring, "Good morning, Harold; Merry Christmas."

"Good morning and Merry Christmas to you as well, John. Did you enjoy your day with Ashlyn?"

He smiled down at the girl in question, "Very much, thank you. Have you noticed the weather by any chance?"

"Hmmm, yes, I had. Not my favorite thing to have to deal with, so I will either catch a cab over to your place or get the car service to bring me." Harold was pacing through the library as he carried a small suitcase to the gate with a couple of changes of clothes and toiletries since he knew he would end up staying with the little family for a few days. He added a bag of gifts and another of snacks he wanted to take along before placing his coat on top so everything was together.

"No need for a cab or car service, Harold; Ashlyn and I already talked and I'll come over to pick you up. That way you don't have to deal with the unreliability of others."

Finch smirked into the phone, "And you can satisfy your overprotective instincts by putting me in the vehicle yourself so there is little risk of my landing on the ground in an undignified heap, correct?"

"I can always put you on the ground myself, but if I do, you won't be getting back up anytime soon," came the dark grumble. Ashlyn looked up and smiled when she heard her adopted uncle's laugh come through the phone.

"I have no fear on that count, Mr. Reese, and if you have no objections, transportation to your place would be deeply appreciated."

"I should be there around noon to get you, Harold; see you then." Hanging up the phone he shook his head, "Why do I put up with him?"

"Because he's like the annoying older brother you never had?"

"Never wanted, either."

She just giggled softly and cuddled in to watch the parade.

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At five minutes to twelve, John's big black SUV came to a stop outside the side entrance to the library and he stepped out. The door opened and his friend appeared with a welcoming smile and several bags. For once, both men had set aside their suits with Reese wearing sweats under his black trench coat and gloves and Finch in dark corduroy pants and heavy sweater, topped by a cozy winter coat.

John maneuvered his way carefully to the older man, "There's a layer of ice under this, Harold, so let me get the bags in first and then I'll help you." He easily hefted all of the bags at once and returned to the car while Finch grumbled softly.

"I am not a child, Mr. Reese; I assure you I can easily make my own way safely to the vehi…CLE!" Harold, attempting to prove that he was far more independent than John was allowing, stepped out of the shelter of the building and onto the slick sidewalk. He barely made two strides before he found an icy patch and his bad leg went out from under him, sending him lurching forward. He fully anticipated a hard, and very painful, landing on the cold, snowy concrete and was stunned to find himself caught under the arms by powerful hands. His forward tumble was halted by the broad chest he crashed into as John, having turned from the car and just _knowing_ what was about to happen, lunged forward and braced both of them to prevent the fall.

"Damn it, Finch, for once in your life, when I tell you to stay put, do it!" Despite his furious growl, his grip was gentle as he righted his friend, physically moved him the last couple of feet to the SUV, and nudged him inside. Seeing Harold nearly fall had scared the crap out of him, knowing the damage the other man could take if he landed, and the surge of adrenaline gave him more strength than normal so he could prevent the accident. Unfortunately, it also left him with an almost irrational anger at the man's obstinacy. Rather than venting at his friend, he soothed his irritability by slamming Harold's door, the back hatch where he'd placed the bags, and finally his own when he got in.

With each loud bang, Harold flinched, knowing the big man was livid and rightfully so. He should have stayed where he was and allowed John to assist him, then he wouldn't be in this position. The vehicle had been left running and he watched out of the corner of his eye as John settled into the seat beside him, hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly he could actually hear the seams of the leather gloves squeal slightly from the pressure being exerted on them.

"I'm truly sorry, John. I behaved like a petulant child needing to prove you wrong and placed both of us in a potentially dangerous situation. I understand completely if you would prefer I return to the building and not spend the day with you and Ashlyn." Despite his quiet, repentant voice, deep inside Finch was desperately hoping he hadn't infuriated the former agent into sending him back into the library to celebrate Christmas alone. He'd spend too many by himself over the years and had been looking forward to actually having a family to be with.

The gloves squealed again as John's stranglehold on the wheel increased slightly. He took a deep breath. Then another. A third. Finally he released his grip and turned to face the older man, "Merry Christmas, Harold. You not only get to spend today, and possibly the next few depending on the weather, with Ashlyn and I, you also will not be getting a lecture from me about listening when I speak. Especially when it comes to your safety." He put the car in gear, then paused to look back at Finch, deciding that privacy could be put on hold for a moment, "Did you pack meds to bring along?"

"Yes," a much chastened computer genius stated softly. "I thought I might need them with the weather being so damp and cold."

"Good, because after that near miss, you're probably going to need something. I was more concerned with keeping you off the ground than being gentle and for that, I apologize."

Harold closed his eyes and shook his head, "No, John, please don't. You may not realize it, but you were extremely gentle when you caught me, especially given the circumstances and your amazing reflexes. I've seen you in action before, and it still boggles the mind how fast you can move. A talent for which I am very grateful," he finished softly.

Easing to a stop at red light, Reese glanced back over, "Good." He let off the brake and slowly accelerated, "Ashlyn doesn't need to know about this. She'll only get herself upset."

"I concur wholeheartedly."

They waited at the next red light and watched in silence as a huge Ford went through the intersection in front of them. Sideways. When it was stopped by another truck, also going sideways, the two drivers stuck their heads out their respective windows to tell each other they were number one and yell curses about poor driving skills. The light changed to green and John easily went around the two idiots, ignoring their gestures and screams. He exchanged looks with Harold and the two men began laughing.


	27. Chapter 27

Part 27

When the door to the loft opened, Christmas music and the sounds of happy singing greeted the two men. Ashlyn was seated on the floor, her back to the entrance, as she threw balls for the dogs to chase across the expanse of the huge room. Spotting his Alpha, Bear, who had been trotting back with his ball for another turn, suddenly put on a burst of speed past the girl and began dancing in front of John and Harold. Dakota joyfully trailed him to do what his mistress had called "the Sheltie Shuffle", consisting of him prancing around in a circle until someone stopped him with attention or he got too dizzy to continue.

The teen rose and followed the animals, putting one hand on the puppy to get him to stop spinning while reaching with the other to relieve Finch of his coat. After hanging it, and taking her father's to put in the closet as well, Ashlyn turned to the older man and gave him a warm hug, "Hi, Uncle Harold; Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas to you, child; have you been enjoying the holiday so far?" The young woman's affection was always a surprise to Finch, despite the many hugs he'd received since she'd come into their lives. Her embrace was careful as always, perhaps more so as if she knew how the cold and damp weather made him ache more than ever. She was usually a very perceptive girl, much like her father, so it was likely she did.

"Yes, we were so busy yesterday, but it was a lot of fun. Wait until you see the pictures we had done, Uncle Harold; we picked out several for you but they won't be ready for a couple of more days. The church service was great, and people kept asking us to come back and their organist wants me to sing in their choir but I'm not sure what we're doing about it yet. We'll have to take you to the restaurant we went to, the food was fantastic and the service even better. And then the snow started and we got to drive by all the Christmas lights and it was so pretty! After we got home, we opened one present each and…"

Coming up behind his daughter, John placed one large hand lightly over her mouth and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head, "Breathe, baby, breathe." The youngster tipped her head back to giggle up at him as she heaved several gusty breaths against his hand. He just shook his head, released her, and carried Finch's bags to the office/mini bedroom.

Ashlyn ushered the older man into the living room and got him settled in the chair designated as "his" before bringing him a hot cup of tea she'd had waiting. He called in to John to please bring out the bag with the gifts when he came and heard a muffled response he assumed was acknowledgement. Sure enough, the military man emerged a few minutes later with the appropriate bag, which he placed beside the occupied chair.

"Did you have something for lunch already, Harold?"

"Yes, John, thank you. I ate just before you arrived."

The girl, who had vanished back to the kitchen area when John came back in, returned with a large mug of coffee for her father and another of hot chocolate for herself. Placing both on the coffee table in front of the couch, Ashlyn went over to the tree and carefully removed several packages with her uncle's name on them. Reese sat at the end of the couch closest to his friend while his daughter placed the gifts on the floor at his feet before lowering herself to sit in front of the two men.

John handed his gifts to the billionaire, surprising Finch who figured the teenager would be the first to go, but he gamely accepted the heavy parcels and, with some encouragement, began opening them. Lifting out the old books, he admired the care that had gone into their preservation and smiled warmly at his associate, "Thank you, John, these will be wonderful additions to my collection."

"You're welcome, Harold, Merry Christmas."

The girl handed him the heavier of her presents which he opened to reveal more rare books to go with the other ones. He beamed down at his niece, "How delightful; I'd been looking for these for some time. Thank you, child." She flashed him a brilliant smile before offering him one more wrapped package, this one very light and much smaller. Harold began laughing when he released the gifts from the paper and held up five very expensive silk ties. Four of them were elegant and simple, exactly the kind he usually wore; but the fifth was what brought his laughter. It was silk like the others, but it had a picture of Santa banging on a computer keyboard while the screen read "Does not compute" over and over again. Outlining the windows in the background were tiny LED Christmas lights attached to a little battery pack so when turned on it blinked obnoxiously.

It was completely wrong for him in every way possible and he absolutely adored it because she had obviously searched hard for something like this with the computer. His partner joined in the hilarity when Finch turned it on and hung it around his neck while Ashlyn simply collapsed over sideways, holding her ribs as tears ran down her cheeks from laughing so hard. It looked so out of place on a man who rarely wore anything but suits and ties that allowed him to blend in with the background and here he was, wearing it with a big grin as the lights flashed in various patterns of neon colors.

Once everyone calmed back down, aside from the occasional chuckle, Harold thanked them both again and turned the tiny lights off, but kept the tie around his neck. He reached into his own bag and, following John's original lead, handed the first gift to the big man. Inside was a handsome black leather jacket that had a liner inside he could take out or leave in to match the weather. His next gift were keys to a new car, one Harold informed him would be more suited to driving his daughter and the dogs around in than a tall and massive SUV. John threatened him with bodily harm if it turned out to be a station wagon while Harold merely smiled and told him he would have to wait and see when the weather cleared so they could go to the dealer to pick it up. The final gift was a very large gift card that could be used at one of several exclusive clothing stores Reese could go to for more of his trademark suits.

Then it was Ashlyn's turn. Harold gave her a dainty silver charm bracelet that she could add to; currently it had charms with her birthdate, the date they found her, one that read "Daddy's little girl", another that said "I'm my uncle's favorite", and two dog charms matching the shepherd and sheltie with their names on them. "I wanted to get you something to represent your mother, but I thought perhaps you would prefer to pick that one out yourself." She just nodded as she hugged him.

Her next gift was a lovely silk scarf that matched the color of her eyes almost perfectly and went with a matching pantsuit in a darker shade of green. His final present to her was a card with a website on it. She looked at him questioningly.

"If you go to this website, you will find the listings for a number of houses in the area. This is my Christmas gift to you and your father. A home rather than a loft. Each of the houses is large with numerous bedrooms, at least two bathrooms, and, most important in my opinion, contains very large fenced-in backyards for the dogs to run in."

John picked up the catalogue she had unwrapped earlier and held it up, "You and I will get to go through this and visit some stores so we can completely furnish the house from scratch the way we want it. It will be our home; a place for you to grow up in that is safe and secure with a place for the dogs to run and you or I won't have to walk them. Especially when the weather is nasty like this, I really don't want you trying to take them out on slippery sidewalks and possibly falling." He pointed to the card she held, "Harold and I talked about this at length, did some investigation into various places, and determined that the houses on the list you'll see are the absolute best available."

She studied the card in silence for several moments before looking up at each man and saying in a soft, anxiety-filled voice, "So the final decision is mine? I have to pick?"

Her father leaned forward instantly to cup her cheek in one large hand, "We'll go together so we can talk about the pros and cons of each place and then make a decision as a family, okay?"

"'Kay," she agreed quietly, leaning into her father's warm palm.

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The rest of the day passed without any problems, the trio relaxed in the living room watching Christmas movies and munching on the many snacks that were available. Ashlyn texted Carter, Fusco, and Heather to wish them happy holidays and shared the responses with the men. Carter's text had included a picture of her and her son in front of their tree while Fusco's had been a simple "thanks and same to you all." Heather's was more detailed on some of the gifts her parents had gotten for her and her younger brother, and a surprise visit from her older brother who hadn't really been in contact much after he left home because of his jealousy over sharing their parents with a developmentally disabled sibling. Apparently something had happened to change his outlook and suddenly he was back and trying to make nice.

After reading the text out loud, the girl looked at her parent with a raised eyebrow and he just gave her an innocent look in response.

"Dad?"

"Yes, little one?"

"Did you have something to do with his change of heart?" Another thought, one she didn't particularly like, popped into her head, "Or did he hear about their 'good fortune' and decide he wanted a part of it?"

"Suspicious little thing, isn't she?" Harold inquired.

"Hmmm, yes she is. One would think she'd been raised with us all her life rather than only a few months." Knowing his child's aptitude to worry a problem into something completely out of proportion, John answered her honestly, "Yes, we did have something to do with him changing his mind about family. A few carefully placed phone calls, letters, emails, and visits convinced him that he needed to contact them and reestablish familial ties. He hadn't known his mother had been ill or that they were in such a financial crunch, so it wasn't very hard to redirect him."

She nodded, "Part of me is glad because I know that they've missed him, but another part is worried he may try to take advantage of them now that things are going well. They have more money coming in and I don't want him to try to get his hands on it."

"No fears there, sweetheart; he makes plenty of money on his own and would have been happy to help them out if he'd known about what was going on." John sighed, "Of course, if he hadn't been such a jerk over his little brother, he would never have been separated and in the dark, so really it's his own fault."

"Indeed it is," Harold chimed in softly. "We all make decisions in the course of our lives and some of those choices can have adverse effects on not only ourselves, but the people we care about most."

"Don't stress yourself, Ashlyn," John reassured, "I'm going to keep a close eye on things to make sure nothing goes wrong. Besides, we're supposed to be going over to see Heather and the family on the 30th to exchange gifts, so we'll have a chance to see how things are going. Until then, don't get worked up over something that may have a very happy ending." With her father's stern decree, she had little choice but to acquiesce.


	28. Chapter 28

Part 28

The days following Christmas were filled with contentment and laughter for the small family as they endured their confinement (due to the weather) by house-hunting online. The website Harold had put together for Ashlyn to peruse was filled with pictures and descriptions of the homes under consideration. The computer genius hooked the system up to the television so they could use the huge screen to surf through things without squinting and the girl used her laptop to make copious notes about each one, good and bad. John had visited each of the homes and neighborhoods so he could get a feel for them and he relayed his findings to the teen to add to her summaries until she finally narrowed her choices down to three.

That done, Finch whipped together a program that allowed them to pull up each room of the three houses and play with paint, furniture placement, wall decorations, flooring, and appliances. It quickly became a game to see who could design the most hideous room before settling down to actually creating something they would live in. By the 28th, the snow had been reduced to dirty piles in parking lots and along streets so the group decided to visit each of the homes on the short list so the girl could actually see everything personally.

The sidewalks were still a bit slick in places and Finch, having learned his lesson on Christmas day, waited quietly in the doorway or at the car until John was beside him in case he slipped. Having spent a good 36 hours living off of pain medications and having to hide how bad off he was from his niece, he didn't want to face a repeat. The look his friend gave him before they started on their venture simply reinforced it further.

Carrying her laptop with her, Ashlyn zipped through each room of the house presented to her, making changes or additions to her notes as she went. The girl had done her homework and the realtor with them, Kelly Kline, worked hard to keep up with all the questions fired at her. While her father either paced silently beside her like a large jungle cat or stood as a sentinel overlooking the yard, the teen walked the perimeter of each of the three yards carefully. She wanted to make sure that the fencing was secure and sturdy and that the yard itself was safe enough for her beloved dogs to run and play in. Harold made himself comfortable in whatever chair was available at each house and let them have at it.

At the final home, while father and daughter were in the yard, Kelly collapsed in a seat beside the billionaire, "How on earth do you keep up with those two?" She had tried chasing after them in the first two places but hadn't been able to keep up. It irritated her since it prevented her from working her wiles on John and she was definitely interested in finding out what made him tick.

Finch smirked, "I'm sure you've noticed that I don't. Nor do I try. Ashlyn is a bundle of energy on any given day and fortunately John is more than able in staying with her."

Looking out the window at the tall figure shadowing the slender teen, the realtor sighed a bit, "Yes, he certainly is. Well built, strong, handsome, wealthy, devoted." Glancing at the older man out of the corner of her eye, she oh-so-causally inquired, "So what's Ashlyn's mother like?"

"She's dead," Harold stated bluntly as he pulled out his phone and fired off a quick email to the realty company, demanding they replace this female with a gentleman who wouldn't be trying to make a play for his friend. She had been following the former agent around and finding various excuses to touch him on the arm, shoulder or back whenever she had the chance. The last thing any of them needed was an infatuated woman mucking around where she didn't belong.

"Oh, dear," came the expected reply in sugary sweet tones. "How terrible for a young girl to lose her mother; it must be very difficult for John to struggle on alone while raising a child."

The smirk had morphed into a glower, though the woman was completely oblivious as she stared out at Reese, "He is neither struggling, nor alone, I assure you."

"Was she pretty?" Kelly pried further.

Unable to resist, Finch snarked, "Ashlyn inherited her father's black hair, but she certainly has her mother's stunning beauty. John has only to look at his child to see a gorgeous reminder of his former love."

"Hmmm, some men don't like to have such reminders around," she mused very softly to herself. "Or they need new memories to replace the old."

Before Harold could lose his normally placid temper, his phone chimed. Looking down, he found a response to his email assuring him that a new person was already on their way and Kelly Kline would be sent packing. The company knew how much he was willing to pay, up front, for a house and they weren't about to take any chances on losing him. He typed in a text message and watched as John retrieved his own phone from the pocket of his leather jacket and curled his lip. The teen, who had been examining something, saw his look of disgust and approached him. The genius smiled faintly when the big man tenderly stroked one hand over her long loose hair, brushing it back from her delicate face as he said something to her.

The sickly cooing of the repulsive female next him interrupted his quiet contemplation of the pair outside, "How sweet! He's just so gentle with her and that voice; oh I could listen to that voice for the rest of my life whispering to me."

Enough. "Get out," Harold growled.

Startled, Kelly turned to him, "Excuse me?"

"Get. Out." He pointed firmly at the front door.

"You can't just dismiss me!" she squalled.

"Of course I can, and I just did. Is your hearing affected by the drooling you're doing over my brother-in-law? You're fired, sacked, relieved of your position, however you want to put it, just get out. Another realtor is on their way to take your place. Your disgusting manners, questions, and obsessive gawking of John have come to an end. He would not and could not be interested in you in any way shape or form."

"How could you possibly know that?" she demanded. Suddenly her eyes narrowed, "Unless, of course, you aren't really his brother-in-law. That's it, isn't it?" Now she was thoroughly disgusted, "The two of you are involved in some sick relationship together, aren't you; and dragging that poor kid along for the ride?"

Harold pushed himself to his feet, noticing that John and Ashlyn were heading for the house as he did, "The only relationship John and I have is one of family and friendship; he is my brother in every way but blood. Ashlyn is my niece and I adore her. Even if he were interested in dating at this time, I would let him know exactly what kind of filthy, revolting creature you are and I guarantee he wouldn't even look at you twice. Right now, all he wants to do is find a safe and quiet place to raise his child without interference." He didn't spare a glance for the pair entering behind Kelly, he just pointed again at the front door, "Leave. Your presence is no longer required nor is it desired."

The woman rose, so outraged she nearly lost her balance and fell off her four inch high heels, "How dare you! I'll have you know I'm one of the most reputable realtors in this city!" She drew back her hand, intent on taking a swing at the sharp-faced man who had given her such a put down.

Kelly Kline's hand never had the chance to connect. She suddenly found herself nearly lifted off her tottering heels as she was pulled around to face the blazing dark blue eyes of the very man she'd been day dreaming about. John didn't bother saying anything to her; he simply turned, still in possession of her wrist, and physically escorted her to the front door. He opened it, placed her on the other side, and slammed it in her stunned face; returning to the kitchen with a pleased sneer, "I didn't really like her anyway; I felt like a piece of cake she was contemplating cutting into."

"That about sums up her opinion of you, John. She kept dropping little hints and asking questions about you that went beyond anything she needed to know to sell us a house. That creature believed she was going to be the next Mrs. Reese."

Ashlyn stared at her uncle in horror while the big man beside her just gagged. When the doorbell rang a moment later, the military man's glittering gaze tightened to laser beams as he stalked back to the living room, fully anticipating round two with the disagreeable female. He ripped the door open, ready for battle, and was taken aback by an older gentleman around fifty five who smiled benignly up at him.

"Hello, I'm Ron Gantz; the realty company sent me over saying there was a problem with the person you were currently using," he offered a hand to the intimidating man before him.

"John Shepherd, and yes there was a big problem with her. Please come in and meet the rest of the family." He led the man to the kitchen and introduced him to his daughter and brother-in-law.

Ron sat down at the table with the trio and began asking questions to bring himself up to speed with his new clients, "I understand that you've narrowed your choices down already to three houses and you've seen all of them?"

"Yes," Reese answered.

"Is it just for the two of you or will your brother-in-law be living at the residence with you?"

Before Harold could respond, the former agent smiled, "He'll be living here more often than not. He just doesn't know it yet." His associate sputtered incoherently at him but John just ignored it while Ashlyn snickered softly. "That's part of why the three houses on our list have at least five bedrooms, three bathrooms, and attached garages."

Mr. Gantz just smiled, "And do you have any questions I can answer about any of the properties you've seen or are there any other houses you'd like visit?"

A glance at his daughter brought her into the conversation, "No other houses; I really like the ones we've seen and I did have a few more questions."

"Ask away, my dear," the realtor invited as he gave her his undivided attention.

))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

By the end of the day, a decision was made, a price set, an offer made and quickly accepted, and John was the proud owner of a very large, beautiful, and expensive home. The one chosen fit everything the family could want in their house: three of the six bedrooms would be set up for their original purpose while the other three would be converted to offices/study rooms/libraries, four bathrooms, a huge kitchen the girl swore she'd happily get lost in while cooking, and a small dining area connected to the kitchen for the family to eat in with another much larger one for entertaining (or to be used as a war room to prepare for ops when needed). Part of the basement had already been set up for a home theatre and they were planning to keep it that way along with putting in a large exercise room and game area. The main living room overlooked the back yard and actually had large sliding glass doors that could be opened up with the weather was nice to bring the inside and outside together. There was a huge patio with dark wood trellis-work to offer shade in the summer months that came with a very large gas and charcoal grill as well as a big fire pit where chairs could be set up to relax around.

A Jacuzzi tub sat in an enclosed room behind and a little to one side of the home so it could be used in private and there was an in-ground swimming pool and deck that was fenced in with glass panels to prevent kids or animals from accidently falling in. Numerous trees, flowering bushes, and flowers of all kinds dotted the yard in tasteful displays and the dogs would have great fun running through the huge expanse of green available to them as well as being able to explore the hidden nooks and crannies created by the landscaping.

Another feature they had all liked the look of was the variety of fireplaces throughout the home. Each bedroom had one, the formal dining room, and both the living room and sitting room came with gas fireplaces. Ashlyn had insisted that her father pick the first bedroom since he was the one who had to be comfortable with escape routes and weapon stashes. John choose a corner room with access to the patio and two windows he could exit from if necessary and was making plans on how to set up alarm systems that would protect the home without making it feel like a prison. He was good with his hands and had already determined where he was going to put in a gun closet and how it would be set up as well as making sure that his daughter would have access if needed.

The wood in his room was dark and he had a walk in closet that was well suited for his style of clothing. The fireplace was good-sized with a heavy mantle and space above it he could hang a picture of some sort. His bathroom was made up of large tiles in medium brown above and below a centerline of smaller shell-shaped tiles. The shower was frosted below the waist and clear above with several small insets to put soap, sponges, shampoos, and other toiletries. He had a soaking tub across from the toilet that appeared to be just large enough to fit his big frame comfortably and he looked forward to trying it out.

The teenager chose the room next to John's mainly because it had a great view of the backyard, instant access to her father if needed, and she loved the way it was set up. She had a door to the patio and a window on each side of it so light wouldn't be a problem when she wanted it. There was a huge walk in closet that was filled with shelves and had a built in jewelry tree of mahogany wood she could hang her rings, necklaces, earrings, and bracelets to make it easier to pick what to wear. The fireplace was framed in pale pink marble and the tile in front for the hearthstones matched it to perfection.

Her bathroom was young woman's dream come true. A glassed in free-standing shower with multiple heads that could be adjusted and a dainty seat of white marble in one corner took up one part of the room. The tile was done in shades of sea foam green and ocean blue with black accents almost making her feel like she was in a bubble in the ocean. Her large tub sat in the corner with a frosted window she could open and a skylight overhead that was controlled with the flick of a switch. Ashlyn could already picture surrounding the ledge of the tub with candles and pretty silk flowers and soaking away the worries of the day. There were even small shelves across from the tub where she could put her DVD player so she'd still have her music to relax to.

The room for Harold was similar to the others in size and closet space, one of the main differences was the fireplace which was done in beautiful fieldstones and had enough room in front of it to set a couple of chairs so he could relax there to read if he chose. His bathroom was done in gray tiles with white accents and he appreciated the fact that his shower had a large seat build into it already so he could sit down when he needed to with his back and leg injuries.

The trio would spend the next few days, other than when John and Ashlyn went to visit Heather and her family, at the loft utilizing Harold's program to truly buckle down and decide how they wanted everything painted and decorated so things could be brought in and done at one time rather than dragging it out. The night after their purchase, John had to go in and physically remove the catalogue and computer from his daughter's room because she couldn't sleep where she was fixating on colors, fabrics, and styles of everything.

"But, dad, I want everything to be perfect! This is the first time I get to have any say in a home and I don't want anything to go wrong," she was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open but was fighting to not sleep.

Without a word, he clicked the save button and shut down the laptop before setting it and the catalogue on the nightstand. That done, he sat down on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, and simply pulled her across his legs and wrapped his arms around her, lovingly carding his fingers through her black mane and rubbing her back soothingly. Ashlyn went limp the moment he scooped her up and was sound asleep before he had her completely settled. John just smiled and continued to cradle his only child for a while longer. When he knew she was deeply asleep, he shifted her carefully back to the bed and tucked the covers around her with a soft kiss to her forehead.


	29. Chapter 29

Part 29

On December 30th, John and Ashlyn gathered up the gifts and food they were taking to the Burke family and drove over to spend the evening with friends. Reese had become as comfortable with them as his daughter and enjoyed the time he spent talking with the parents about raising a child.

When they pulled into the driveway, Heather and her brother Ricky were watching for them and hurried out to help bring things in. After quick greetings, everyone returned to the warmth of the house where they were welcomed by the adults, Chris and Lisa. Coats were stored away and bags of gifts removed to the living room as Heather hugged the younger girl before passing her off to Ricky for another. The pretty eighteen year old then gave John a squeeze who, though surprised, gently hugged her back before he was wrapped up by Ricky. The boy's affection was something he'd come to expect over the last couple of months and he had no problems returning it which pleased the parents. Sometimes people just didn't understand that the young man simply loved people and wanted to share his emotions with them.

The adult Burkes also hugged the girl and Chris shook hands with John while Lisa gave him a firm embrace. Standing in the background, watching silently, was the former prodigal son, now aged twenty three, who had finally returned to the family fold after several years. His father drew him forward and made introductions, "Ashlyn and John Shepherd, this is our oldest, Jackson, Jax for short. Son, this is Heather's friend from school and her father."

Jax offered his hand to the military man and suppressed a slight wince at the firmness of the grip, "Mr. Shepherd, nice to meet you."

"You, too," John responded as he tightened his pressure just a bit more. The young man looked into the narrowed dark blue eyes as the intimidating former agent's voice lowered further, "I was very glad to hear you had come home to visit for the holidays."

"Something just told me that I needed to grow up and be the man I thought I was," Jax stated even as his face lost some of its color when he realized that the man before him was part of the reason he'd come to his revelation. He'd had some phone calls from a guy letting him in on a few truths concerning his family that he hadn't been aware of and the voices were identical. He nodded in understanding at Reese, getting the unspoken message.

When he was released, he turned to the beautiful girl who was his sister's best friend and smiled, "Hello, Ashlyn, it's very nice to finally meet you; Heather and Ricky have been talking about you a lot since I came home."

The teen returned his grin, "They've talked about you over the last couple of months, too, and I'm glad you could visit for Christmas. How long are you staying?"

"Through January 6th, then I have to get back for my job on the 7th."

As if he didn't know, John inquired politely, "What do you do?"

"I'm an architectural engineer; we're due in the office after New Year's to present designs for a new cathedral to the archdiocese so we can break ground in the spring."

Chris beamed proudly at his oldest child, "He put himself through college and graduated top in his class last year. His company hired him straight out of school."

The young man flushed as he dropped his eyes. Jax had thrown himself into his schooling to escape his home life because of his jealousy over Ricky and the attention he got. Now that he was an adult, he'd been looking back on his actions and deeply regretted the time he lost with his family, including his brother.

Seeing her sibling's discomfort, Heather bumped him with her shoulder and flashed him a brilliant smile when he looked her way, "Of course, he's _only_ an engineer; by the time I get done with school and have my degree in computer sciences, I'll be making twice what he is."

"In your dreams, brat," Jax teased back, giving her a thankful look for stepping in. She'd always been good at that; when he still lived at home and things got tense because of his problems with his little brother, Heather had often defused the situation.

Lisa invited everyone into the living room where a cheery fire burned welcomingly near a large twinkling Christmas tree. John sat in one of the armchairs near the door that gave him a clear view of the room (and an exit, of course) and his daughter, seeing that there was only enough seating for five comfortably, folded herself gracefully to the floor in front of him, resting back against the arm of the chair and leaning against his leg. Surprising everyone, Heather joined her on the other side, bracketing Reese between them. Jax had sat in the other arm chair while the parents and Ricky got comfortable on the couch. He couldn't believe how relaxed his sister was with the menacing man who was currently stroking his fingers over Ashlyn's hair in a soothing manner.

The group talked about how the holidays had gone for everyone, the beautiful Christmas snow they'd gotten, and the house Harold had purchased for his family as his gift. John mentioned a car they hadn't gotten around to picking up yet and the Burke's oldest goggled at bit at how everyone seemed to take it all in stride like this was common place. Just how much money did these people have that they could give a house or car as a gift? He made good money at his job, but there was no way he could do something like that! Although he was sitting quietly like a perfect gentleman and not fidgeting, Ricky's eyes kept straying to the bags of presents his friends had brought with them and he knew there were gifts still under the tree for them. He very much wanted to know what goodies were in those gaily wrapped boxes.

After about half an hour of talking, Lisa suddenly gave a little yelp and scrambled to her feet, "Oh goodness! I'm so sorry; I didn't think to ask you if you wanted anything to drink or something to snack on, even though we'll be eating in about 45 minutes. Can I get anyone anything?" Her visitors assured her that they were fine and thanked her for offering.

Noting the interest of the youngest boy, John decided it was time to end his misery, "Perhaps we could go ahead and exchange gifts before dinner?"

Chris, who had also been aware of Ricky's eager fascination, agreed, "I think that's a great idea, John. Ricky, why don't you hand out presents to everyone?"

The boy happily pushed himself off the couch and went to the tree where everything had been placed. Politely, he picked up the gifts for his friends first and offered them to John and Ashlyn, then he went through the bags they had brought and began giving them to each person as he pulled out the gift. At the bottom of one of the bags was a large, somewhat heavy card, with Jackson's name on it and Ricky gave it to his surprised brother with a huge grin.

Once everything had been dispersed to the correct people, Chris nodded at Ashlyn, "We always go one at a time so everyone can see what the present was and guests go first."

After glancing up at her father for his approving nod, the girl started on the wrapping paper. She had several packages that included some nice clothes (from Chris and Lisa), a couple of computer books and a "Best Friends" charm for her bracelet (from Heather who had apparently talked to John about what the teen was getting so she knew to find a charm), and an abstract picture painted by Ricky in her favorite colors along with some sweet smelling soaps he'd made at his program.

John went next and discovered the other couple had found some nice clothes for him as well and a humorous book on raising teenaged daughters he had a feeling would have him entertained for some time. From Heather, he was given a nice watch she said was weather-proof, always accurate, and durable in case he banged it on something (or someone) on a regular basis. He also received a painting from Ricky and a pair of dark aviator glasses that he put on immediately, prompting the boy to cackle in delight.

When they were done, Ricky was given the nod to tear into his and he was thrilled with a black leather coat (similar to John's), a stack of books on word puzzles he so loved to work on, and a number of hand/eye/fine motor coordination puzzles to help him with his skills. He was also given a large gift card to one of the local education stores that carried a wide range of items for not only children but adults with developmental disabilities to further their learning.

Heather gave a soft squeal of delight when she opened her first gift of sapphire earrings and matching necklace that went with a pale blue cashmere sweater and a gift card to her favorite clothing and accessories store. When she opened her last gift, she stared at it without comprehension before pivoting around to look up at her friend's dad.

"As soon as we pick up the car that Harold bought for us tomorrow, the SUV is going to your parents and you will get your mom's car, since it's the one in the best shape. I don't like you having to walk to and from school or taking the bus when you need to go places and a car isn't available. A young woman walking a regular route on her own like that is magnet for troublemakers and I don't want you to become a statistic," John stated softly. He then had to brace himself and the chair he was in when the girl leaped up from the floor and dove at him for a hug chanting her thanks while Chris and Lisa chuckled from the couch.

Once Heather resumed her place, all eyes turned to Jax who returned their looks with a soft apology, "I'm sorry, I didn't know to get something for Mr. Shepherd and Ashlyn or I would have; I truly apologize for not having even a card."

The former agent shook his head, "We certainly didn't expect anything from you, Jackson, since you don't even know us; but we knew you were here and wanted to make sure you had something to open." He gestured to the large envelope on the arm of the chair beside the young man.

"You didn't need to do that, but thank you," Jax said as he carefully opened the flap and pulled out a Christmas card, automatically catching the smaller packet that slid out from inside. He read the card out loud at his mother's insistence, and then opened the second one to find a Visa gift card for $500. He gaped over at the dark man in the chair across the room from him, unable to find any words.

"I know that travelling this time of year isn't cheap or easy and you made your family's Christmas complete by coming in. Hopefully, this will help offset some of the cost." The young man started to say something but John held up a hand to forestall him, "I can afford it and you will accept it."

Deciding that keeping his head attached to his shoulders would be a good plan, Jax nodded and expressed his heartfelt thanks which were waved away.

Attention then turned to the parental unit on the couch and Chris smiled as he opened the Christmas card from the Shepherds, "Our gift was the SUV and some free labor around the house this spring to help with some work that needs done. We feel that was more than enough from our new friends on top of everything they've done for you kids." John had also placed a gift card inside and he now smiled when the other man looked at it in shock before handing it to his wife who dropped it with a surprised cry.

Lisa stared over at the man her only daughter was seated next to, "John, surely this is a mistake? You accidently added one too many zeros?"

"Or two," Chris queried.

"No mistake, the two of you have been a tremendous help to me and wonderful to Ashlyn since the girls met and I wanted to express my appreciation for that. As I told Jax, I can afford it, please accept it with my gratitude."

"Actually, you told me that I _would_ accept it; there was no please in that…" Jax's voice trailed off when John gave him the look he usually reserved for Fusco when he was being obstinate.

When Chris and Lisa rose, Reese quickly got up as well; one mugging in the chair from the Burke family had been enough and he didn't want a repeat. The girls scooted out of the way and got up while the parents engaged in a three way group hug much to the military man's consternation.

Finally releasing the big man, Lisa dashed away happy tears and announced, "Everyone into the dining room and we'll get dinner on the table." She hurried off with her daughter in tow to help get things from the kitchen while her husband tugged Ricky off the couch and gestured to their guests to precede them to the other room and Jax excused himself to the bathroom.

When the young man returned to the living room, he saw the card to his parents on the floor and picked it up to set on the coffee table so it didn't get lost. As he did, curiosity got the better of him and Jax looked at the amount. He was just as stunned as his parents had been to see it was to a large home improvement chain in the amount of $10,000.

Entering the dining area, he briefly met the deep blue eyes of the dangerous man seated at the table and wondered to himself, 'Just who the hell was this guy?'

Staring Jax down was far too easy, the other man didn't have an Alpha personality and John was more of a predator than most so few people could match his look head on for any length of time. He had to hand it to the kid, though; Jax was smart enough to know when to keep his mouth shut and when to just let things go for the good of all. The deadly glitter in his eyes disappeared the instant his daughter settled into the chair beside his and a smile lit the blue depths instead.

Sitting in a chair as far from Reese as possible, Jax marveled at the change when he was in the presence of the beautiful girl. He went from terrifying hunter to loving guardian in a heartbeat when he looked at Ashlyn; he was even gentle with Heather and Ricky when he interacted with them, his little brother absolutely adored the man.

Once all the food had been brought in, everyone bowed their head while Chris offered a blessing before digging in.

~~~***POI***~~~

On Dec. 31st, the trio piled into the SUV and headed for the dealer Harold had purchased the new car from to pick it up. John was still trying to find out exactly what the man had gotten since Finch wouldn't even drop a hint, which was frustrating the heck out of his associate. The first car they saw as they pulled onto the lot was the tiny Ford Fiesta and John immediately growled that the computer genius had better not have even considered it. That car was so small Ashlyn would have problems getting in it, let alone a man who stood six foot two.

With a quiet chuckle, the billionaire directed him to park in front of the showroom and once the vehicle was stopped, he eased himself out as he silently cursed the cold weather that made him ache more than normal. Since John would be driving the new vehicle home, he had to come along to drive the SUV so it could be dropped off at the Burke's. Plus he didn't want to miss the look on his friend's face when he saw the car Harold had picked out.

Salespeople converged on them the instant they opened the doors to the SUV. It was an expensive vehicle and everyone wanted to be the first to grab its owner for the next sale. Ashlyn, sliding out from the backseat behind her father, closed her door and suddenly latched onto the back of his leather jacket when a portly man (who reminded her too much of her former step-uncle for comfort) rushed at them from the side and slightly behind her, sticking his hand out aggressively.

Reacting on instinct to someone coming at him and possibly threatening his child, Reese caught the man's wrist in a vise-like hold and used the salesman's momentum against him by sidestepping so he ran into the side of the vehicle. He then pinned the guy's arm behind his back as he continued to restrain him with one hand. His other hand was busy guiding Ashlyn where he needed her to be for her safety and so he could move freely without running the teen over.

Hearing the thud and feeling the SUV shake as he stood with his hand on the door, Harold turned to peer through the interior and saw his friend had someone plastered to the other side. Straightening up, he closed the door and limped to the front so he could see the former agent.

"Really, John, I don't think that you need to go to such extremes with the salespeople. Just convey to them your lack of interest verbally and I'm sure they'll comprehend."

"Perhaps, Harold, but if they all see me break this guy's arm then I can guarantee they won't come close enough to pester me. Or scare my daughter."

Spotting the girl hovering behind the big man and seeing her white face, Finch sighed softly and gestured to her as he gently said, "Come over here, child; let's give your father some room to deal with this gentleman; hopefully in a way that doesn't leave any more marks."

Making sure she stayed clear of the two men, Ashlyn hurried to Harold's side and surprised him by catching hold of his arm as she leaned lightly into him for reassurance. Normally, this was something she only did with John; Finch didn't really see himself as much of a protector or comforter, but he would be as helpful as he could. He reached over with his free hand and softly patted her shoulder, "It's alright, Ashlyn; I'm sure he didn't mean to startle you like that. Sometimes salespeople can be too strident in their desire to gain the best customers and, therefore, their money."

He glanced over at the cadre of people standing by the building that were now too terrified to approach after seeing the way the military man had taken out one of their own. Well, at least he'd already purchased the car and all they had to do was pick up the keys and paperwork.

In the meantime, John leaned in close to the man he still had pinned to the SUV, "Perhaps in the future, you'll know better than to come at someone like that. The next one may actually pull out his gun and shoot you rather than let you go with a warning." When the portly man nodded frantically, Reese slowly eased up on his grip and released him, pointing him in the opposite direction of the family so he didn't get near them.

Tugging his jacket back into place, the big former agent walked around the front of the vehicle and paused next to the pair waiting for him, "Everyone alright?" He smiled when Finch gave him a glower and his daughter transferred her grip from her uncle's arm to her father's waist. Slipping his arm around her, John hugged her and rested his cheek against her dark head for a moment as he murmured reassurances.

Once the teen relaxed enough to let go, they made their way into the showroom, scattering anyone in the vicinity as they approached the customer service desk. The woman seated there looked up with a smile, "Good morning and welcome; how may I help you?"

Harold leaned against the counter, "I purchased a vehicle about two weeks ago as a Christmas gift for my brother-in-law and we're here to pick it up. It should be under the name Shepherd."

Typing the name into her computer the fifty-something year old woman softly commented, "And why couldn't I have a brother-in-law like that?"

"I'll loan him to you," John said softly as he smirked at his friend, "but I have to warn you, he can be very demanding at times."

"I'm sure that Fiesta is still for sale, John, I could always switch vehicles for you," Finch threatened.

The girl with them giggled softly as she pictured her large dad attempting to crawl in and out of such a tiny car, especially when he was after someone. Pulling her against his broad chest and wrapping his arms around her tightly, John rumbled teasingly, "Don't encourage him, brat; you're supposed to be on my side." She just continued to laugh even as she returned his embrace.

The customer service representative was delighted to see such a closely bonded parent and child; though it made her miss her own children who were grown and scattered around the country. Finding what she was looking for on her computer, she picked up her phone and tapped in an extension, "Don, the Shepherd family is here for their new vehicle." When she hung up she gave them her full attention again, "He said he'll be right out; is there anything I can get for you while you wait?"

Before Don Hughes could even get to his office door, one of the other salesmen was slithering through it, cautioning him to be very careful when he went out and telling him about what happened to Larry the over-eager idiot who'd ended up slammed into the side of the SUV. Brushing the man aside, knowing he had a tendency to blow things out of proportion, Don walked out to the showroom. He immediately recognized the thin, sharp-faced man who had made the original purchase and mentally rolled his eyes at the hissed warning from behind him.

The other man was currently holding a stunning teenager and slowly rocking her back and forth in a playful manner. The girl had her back to her father's chest with his arms crossed in front of her as she held his wrists. He was partially hunched over as he swayed from one side to the other with her, talking softly as she rested her head back against his shoulder. Don could see they shared the same coal black hair, though the other man had some flecks of grey in his, and he wondered if her mother was as beautiful. If she was, the girl's father was one lucky guy.

When John spotted the short lanky man approaching, he straightened to his full height as he released his daughter. The salesman's gait faltered slightly when he was pinned by a pair of cold deep blue eyes from a man who had turned from father to guardian with a simple movement. Suddenly, the warning he'd been given didn't seem so foolish.

Before anyone could do anything (such as John scaring the tar out of the person who was supposed to be giving them the keys and paperwork), Harold lurched forward and extended his hand, "Mr. Hughes, good to see you again. As you can see, I've brought my brother-in-law along to pick up the car I bought him for Christmas. This is John Shepherd and his daughter, my niece, Ashlyn." Shooting his partner a pleading look, he gestured to the salesman, "John, this is Don Hughes; he was the man who kindly took care of everything I needed to get your car."

Since Finch was going out of his way to point out the man had been helpful, Reese went with it and offered his hand for a firm, but not painful handshake, "Mr. Hughes."

Fully expecting to have his hand bones crunch in the grip of the powerful man, he was astonished at the carefully leashed strength, "Don, please, Mr. Shepherd." He wasn't surprised when the invitation to call the man by his first name was not reciprocated. Instead, he turned a smile to the lovely young lady positioned between the men and hesitantly held out his hand, not sure if the father would allow it, "Ashlyn, a pleasure to meet you. Your uncle spoke of you quite a bit when he came in to buy the car for your dad. You're every bit as beautiful as he said."

As she lightly shook hands, she looked over at Harold in disbelief and saw him roll his eyes. She'd known better than to think that he would speak about either her or John to a stranger outside of bare basics; the man was too intensely private and protected the family in the same manner. As soon as it was polite to do so, she extricated her hand and took a slight step back.

Not wanting to push his luck, Hughes invited the group to join him in the office to finalize paperwork and he asked the receptionist to have someone bring the car around for them. There were only two chairs in the office and Ashlyn chose to stand behind her father, leaning over his shoulder to look at things in curiosity as it was shown to him for his signature as the owner. Any time the vehicle was listed on the forms, it had been covered up with sticky notes and when John attempted to lift them so he could see what he was getting, Harold would lightly slap his hand.

The first time Finch tapped the back of Reese's hand, the younger man had turned a look of such surprise on him that the teen behind them had to smother her laughter. Each successive time, John tried to be fast or slick about it, making a game out of who could get there first, but Harold knew exactly where each tiny piece was and reacted swiftly. And he was obviously enjoying himself immensely.

When the last form was signed, Don quickly folded everything up and placed it in an envelope to hand to Finch. There was no way he was going to get involved in this particular war. He then led the way out of the office and to the front of the showroom where there was a vehicle parked next to the SUV.

A bright yellow GMC Savannah 15 passenger van.

Although he hadn't planned it, the van was there by complete accident, Finch turned to his friend and cheerfully asked, "Well? What do you think?"

Ashlyn scrambled out of the way when her father turned blazing eyes on the man he'd spent so much time working with over the last couple of years and opened his mouth. Harold couldn't hold onto the ruse and broke out into a huge smile which instantly brought the other man up short.

"That was so not funny, Harold."

"Yes, it was, John. You just fail to have a proper sense of humor."

"I have an excellent sense of humor, Harold. I haven't killed you off yet, have I?"

"We really need to get you some help for these violent tendencies, John. You know this, right?"

"Still not funny."

At that point another vehicle pulled in on the opposite side and the big man let out a sigh of relief. This, he could definitely live with.

A metallic black 2013 Yukon XL Denali with ebony leather seats, 22" chrome wheels, a sunroof, entertainment package in the back, huge V8 engine, a console organizer both front and back, all weather floor mats throughout including a rear cargo mat and removable net, and in the rear cargo area was some extra padding, tie downs, and air conditioning vents for the times he needed to transport the dogs (or people who required restraints). The windows had been as heavily tinted as the law allowed and that afforded him privacy when needed. Overall, a large, well-proportioned vehicle that would suit his needs admirably.

He turned to his partner with a big grin, "Now _that's_ a vehicle I can happily claim, Harold. Thank you, very, very much."

"You're quite welcome, John. I thought it would fit your lifestyle for both work and home and you can transport Ashlyn and the dogs in comfort and safety."

Reese looked over at his daughter who had wandered closer to the window to see better, "What do you think, sweetheart? Like it?"

"As long as I don't have to drive that monstrosity anywhere, I'm good with it," she replied. "But it's perfect for you, dad. Uncle Harold did good!"

"Thank you, child," the billionaire smiled, pleased to have made both of them happy.

The young man who had brought the vehicle up for them climbed out, came inside, and started to walk over to hand the keys to John but got distracted by the girl standing nearby. Giving her what he thought was a flirtatious smile and suggestive leer, he kind of tossed the keys in the direction of the men as he moved toward her. Her response was an instinctive retreat away from him as he made her very uncomfortable.

Catching the keys before they hit the ground, Reese hurdled them with all his strength at the boy's chest, shocking everyone around them. People who had seen what he did to the salesman earlier got as far away from the scene as they could and still see what was about to happen. Finch rolled his eyes at human nature. It seemed that most people couldn't drive past a horrible wreck without slowing down to gawk, and this was about to be a nasty one.

"John…" Harold started softly.

"Dude! What the hell's your problem, man? That hurt!" the twenty one year old whined as he rubbed the point of impact.

Stepping in front of his daughter and blocking the other's view of her, he growled, "You don't want to push your luck. Just walk away and lick your wounds before you have more."

"If I want to talk to a pretty girl, I will," he stated belligerently. He tried puffing himself up, but still came up at least four inches shorter and twenty pounds lighter than the former agent. But the guy was _old_ so what could he do?

"She's jailbait to you; but you won't even make it out of here in one piece if you don't let it go," John's husky voice lowered further. Harold shook his head as he waited for his friend to simply take the kid apart for his foolishness.

"You're not my boss, you're not my dad, and you don't have any say over what I do or don't do; so get out of my face."

"I may not be _your_ father, but I am _hers_, so I have a big say. Now, we're leaving, and you're going to thank your lucky stars that I didn't put you in the hospital. Happy New Year." Reese turned his back on the young man, fully anticipating an attack.

He wasn't disappointed.

The kid grabbed his arm and tried to spin him around as he took a swing at the man's set jaw. John really just wanted to get out of there at this point and enjoy his new car so he sidestepped and gave the other man a shove away from Ashlyn with a soft, "You really want to stop while you're ahead, kid."

The young man was beyond hearing and after regaining his balance, he turned and tried to tackle Reese who again stepped to one side and let him barrel past. The owner of the dealership, having been summoned by the customer service representative, came hurrying from his office in the back and saw an employee trying to attack a customer and the customer was trying to avoid him.

"Daniel," he bellowed, "what do you think you're doing?!"

"He started it!" came the whining response. "I was just minding my own business and he threw his keys at me." He rubbed his chest for effect, "It still hurts!"

Stepping forward as he tried to just smooth things over and end it, Harold stated, "Your imprudent young employee was distracted from the completion of his duties and chose, unwisely, to take offense with my brother-in-law's redirection from his infatuated mind-set."

Even Ashlyn looked at him like he'd lost his mind with the complicated wording and Finch sighed, "The idiot tried to flirt with my niece and got mad when her father told him to go away." Unable to resist, John's lips quirked slightly at his friend's attempt to speak like a normal human being.

The owner stalked over to his erring employee and caught hold of his arm, turning and directing him to the back office before approaching the family, "I cannot apologize enough for my nephew and his inappropriate behavior. Please be assured that I will have a serious discussion with him about what he did and how wrong it was." He glared in the direction the young man had sulked off in, "More than likely, I'll just fire him, send him home to his mother, and be done with it."

"He will only learn if he's given the opportunity to do so," Harold stated calmly.

"Have you considered putting him the military?" John growled.

"I don't know that the military would want him, though it's worth considering; and he's had numerous opportunities, both here and at my brother's construction sites, to learn. Daniel is simply too egotistical, spoiled, and stubborn. My sister lost her husband to cancer and doted on the boy too much."

With a shrug, the former agent gathered up his daughter and snagged the keys to his new vehicle from the floor where they had fallen when he'd thrown them at the kid, "You'd be surprised who the military will take and what it can do for them."

The owner nodded thoughtfully as he again apologized and walked them out to the Denali to talk to John about its features. While they were occupied, Ashlyn sidled over to Finch, "Was there something I did that caused all that, Uncle Harold?"

He gave her a startled look before hastily assuring, "Of course not, child! All you were doing was standing there admiring the car when that young hothead made the decision to approach you. Inappropriately, I might add. He was considerably older than you and derelict in the completion of his duties, your father was completely correct in sending him on his way, though perhaps without quite so much aggression."

"Sometimes I think it would have been so much easier on dad if I had been born a boy. Then he wouldn't have all the problems he's had to deal with since I came to live here," the girl said softly.

"Your father absolutely adores you, Ashlyn; no one and nothing could take your place in his heart, or mine. You have become the soul of this family and I have come to realize just how empty our lives have been without you as a part of it." He rested one hand lightly on her shoulder as he tipped her chin up with the other to make sure he had her undivided attention, "You are loved. You are wanted. You belong with us. Do you understand?"

She nodded silently as she leaned forward into his chest for a brief hug, which he gently returned. When the girl straightened and stepped away, she gave him a grateful smile before joining the other two men who were discussing certain features that had been included.

After going over the car in detail, John and Ashlyn were followed by Harold over to the Burke's house where they dropped off the SUV before returning home. New Year's Eve was a quiet affair with the trio staying in at the loft and watching the ball drop on TV rather than dealing with crowds of crazy drunks. The military man noticed his daughter was more reserved than normal, but he figured it was due to the long and active day they'd had.


	30. Chapter 30

Part 30

The new year brought nothing but chaos to start. Their self-imposed break for the holidays (for which Harold felt immensely guilty) ended and they were inundated with people needing rescued from one thing or another, classes started up again for the teenager, and they were trying hard to get the house ready for them to move in. Ashlyn's three college courses took place on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday and were two hours each. Unless something out of the ordinary happened, John would drop her off each morning as he headed in to meet Finch and she would walk back to the library after the last one.

Heather was taking the same classes, and a couple of extras, so the two were able to spend a lot of time together studying and talking. As January faded into February, their professor started his smaller study groups that met once a week from seven to ten on Wednesday evenings and Ashlyn talked her father into letting her join this time. Since her friend was also part of the group, the girls would either have dinner out together or went back to the Burke home for dinner before heading back to the college for the gathering.

Sundays were still set aside for a family dinner which Harold absolutely loved despite his preference for solitude. With Ashlyn at school much of the week, he only had the dogs to deal with at the library and now that Dakota was older, he no longer had to worry about the pup chewing everything in sight. Though he rarely said anything to his daughter, John often spend at least part of each weekend healing up from whatever encounters he'd dealt with through the week. He didn't want to worry the young woman, so he hid much of it and went about his daily routines as normally as he could.

The work crews that had been hired to bring the house up to where they wanted were finally done at the end of February and John spent much of his spare time putting in the security measures he insisted on, including a large gun closet in his room. He also installed one in the basement and another, much smaller, in one of the kitchen cabinets. He was a man who had been through a lot in his life and wanted to make sure he could always get to a weapon if needed so he also built a small hidden stash in the backyard, actually in one of the larger trees, that you wouldn't know was there unless you knew where to look.

They were completely moved in by mid-March with almost all new furniture (there were a few things each brought that they wanted from the loft or library) and now weekends were spend unpacking the last of the boxes and decorating with pictures, paintings, or knick knacks. Harold still spent over half his time living at his office where he was surrounded by his beloved books, but he felt comfortable in the home with his family. John set up a doggy door to the backyard that had been designed by his friend. It was very high-tech, as all of Finch's creations were, and was intended to only allow the dogs access in and out. All they had to do was nudge the small door with their noses and it would release to let them go through, but if a person tried it, the door wouldn't disengage so they would not be able to gain access to the home. Between the two men, lots of money, their vast store of knowledge and personal histories, they were able to set the house up with all kinds of gadgets and features most people only dreamed of.

Things were going very well for everyone and life was now becoming a comfortable routine in many ways. And as always, it didn't stay that way for long.

~~~***POI***~~~

It was early April and spring was happily making its appearance bringing with it new growth and greenery as soft warm breezes filled the city. School was a joy for the girl who had been forced to study at home all her life and she was making more and more friends, though Heather was her best and closest. Professor Sipe was thrilled Ashlyn had continued her classes and had joined his study group since she had an innate gift with computers few developed. She was always willing to help others if they needed it, but she was also able to ask for help if she didn't understand something.

Things had been going well and peace was a commodity the family enjoyed whenever they could. The numbers kept coming in and Ashlyn helped out with them regularly at the library so Harold could be in the field again now that the weather was improved. The detectives were kept equally busy by the two men when she wasn't available due to school.

Wednesday morning, John and Ashlyn had breakfast together at the house and talked about the upcoming day. He was still working a number from the day before but was making progress so he didn't see any reason it wouldn't be wrapped up by that evening. The teen was excited about the study group that night because they were working on a new code she hoped to show Harold over the weekend. They drove to the college where the military man dropped her off with a smile, a kiss on the cheek, and a soft, "I love you, sweetheart" before he went to the library to meet with Finch.

As always, Ashlyn and Heather sat at the same table together in class, but the young girl noticed the other looked a little on the pale side that day.

"Heather, you okay? You don't look so good."

The blonde shook her head, "I just have a headache this morning, Ash, I should be good by lunch."

She wasn't, however. The young woman only ate a few bites of her sandwich before putting it away and pulling out one of her computer books to study while her companion ate. They were sitting outside in one of the courtyards under a big tree so they could enjoy the pretty day and Ashlyn noted a soft flush starting on her friend's cheeks but she couldn't convince her to go home. As they were nearing the end of the final class for the day, Heather suddenly turned green and bolted for the door and down the hall. Her tablemate raced after her, pausing only long enough to tell the professor the other girl was sick.

By the time she reached the bathroom, Heather was hunched over a toilet heaving violently and Ashlyn held her blonde hair back while rubbing her back soothingly. When the older girl finally stopped, her dark haired companion wet some paper towels and sponged her flushed, sweaty face before placing one on the back of her neck.

"I think I need to go home, Ash," came the soft whisper finally.

"You think?" her friend asked incredulous. "Of course you need to go home, Heather. The only question is, do you need me to call your parents to come get you or can you drive?"

Pushing herself completely upright, the blonde took a couple of deep breaths, "I can make it home on my own, and from there go straight to bed." The two left the bathroom and started down the hall before Heather gave a soft gasp, "Tonight is study group!"

"So? You're definitely too sick to try to stay for that."

"But I'm your ride on Wednesdays, what are you going to do about dinner and how are you going to get back home tonight?"

Gently urging her friend to continue walking, Ashlyn strove to reassure her, "I'll just have dinner on campus and study in the library until time for our group. Dad was planning on being done with his job early this evening so I'll call him to pick me up."

After allowing the younger girl to get her to her car and wave her off, Heather drove home so she could curl up in her bed for the night. She knew that John would do everything in his power to be there or would make arrangements for his brother-in-law to do the pick-up.

Ashlyn went down to the campus cafeteria and ordered dinner which she took out to the courtyard. Pulling out her Kindle, the teen read one of the books she'd downloaded while she ate before sending a text to her father.

_How's the # doing?_

_Still in 1 piece. Not 4 lack of trying. _The girl chuckled at her father's response. He could mean the number was trying to get himself killed or the number was trying John's patience to the point the military man was going to kill him.

_Going 2 b done 2nite?_

_Not a prayer. Will b a late 1._

Crap. That meant he wouldn't be able to pick her up and if it was going to be late, Harold would be either fussing over his computers or out in the field helping. Oh well, she'd just walk home after study group and they would never have to know; or she'd try one of them when it was over to see if they were available. She had been walking home after classes on Mondays and Fridays without any problems.

_K. B careful and luv u!_

_Luv u 2._

She had to laugh at how much better he'd gotten at texting with her since coming to live with him. He was so used to using his earpiece for everything that he'd had to learn another language to keep up with her. Ashlyn tucked her phone away and found a quiet spot in the library to do her homework while she waited for seven pm to roll around.

~~~***POI***~~~

When the group finished up a little after ten, they were less than quiet exiting the library at their triumph in completing the complex code they'd been working so hard on. The staff allowed the noise since there was only one or two students currently studying, but they were glad to see the six students and their professor leaving. Ashlyn was lagging behind the pack as she stuffed her laptop into her bag and waved at her friends as they disappeared to their cars.

As she settled on one of the benches in front of the school, a car pulled up and the passenger side window rolled down. She almost got back up until she recognized her teacher.

"Ashlyn? Everything okay?" David asked in concern.

"Yes, professor, thanks for checking. Heather's normally my ride home but I talked with dad earlier." She neglected to say that she hadn't actually told John what was going on or that she was about to text him again.

The man simply assumed that meant her father was going to pick her up and he really didn't enjoy his run-ins with the guy so he bid the girl good night and drove off. Taking her phone out, the teen sent her father a quick message.

_# still alive?_

_Not well, but yes, alive. Group done?_

She giggled, easily picturing him beating the current target into submission. _Yep. You at office w/uncle?_

_No, both of us r out. U remember current pw?_

_Silly question. _Of course she remembered the password to get into the building, despite Harold changing it at least four times a week; she had an eidetic memory after all!

_:-P brat. Will c u l8r & love you._

_Love u._ Well, that answered that. Both men were somewhere in the field so that left her with one choice. Ashlyn, carefully studying her surroundings as she went, began her walk to the library.

There were very few people around and John generally kept the area free of problems so she really didn't have any fears about walking the streets in the dark, but she was still cautious. Her kidnapping several months ago was fresh enough in her mind that she was skittish and ready if something happened.

As she started up the sidewalk that ran alongside her building, Ashlyn relaxed, knowing she was almost home and no one ever hung right around the empty library for fear of being terrorized by the scary guy that seemed to be there a lot. She was about twenty feet from the door when she heard a car pull in behind her, a single door slam, and rapid footsteps coming in her direction. The teen picked up her pace and was reaching for the cover on the keypad when a large hand caught hold of her left wrist.


	31. Chapter 31

Part 31

Ashlyn responded on pure instinct. Her father had worked hard with her, teaching her a variety of self-defense moves just for situations like this. Spinning partly to her right as she tucked her left arm as close as she could get with the man holding it, she lashed out with her right elbow, aiming for the solar plexus. She never landed the move because he forced her to continue the spin and then used her own shackled arm to pin her back against him.

Her next move was to use his grip to her advantage and lift both legs to drive backwards at his knees. But his knees weren't where they were supposed to be and Ashlyn was suddenly dangling off the ground. An attempt at a head-butt to the face failed when he anticipated her move and tilted his head away. When she took a deep breath, the man brought his free hand up to cover her mouth, so Ashlyn reacted in a way he didn't expect.

She bit him on the fleshy part of his thumb.

With a soft curse, the man yanked his hand away as he placed her back on her feet, "Little hellcat; I didn't teach you that."

Pulling away from him, Ashlyn glared up at her father and snarled, "You scared the crap out of me!"

"Good," he snapped back, "you were walking down the sidewalk, by yourself, in the dark! What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I needed to get home sometime tonight and my own two feet were the only option I had. It was better than sitting on a bench by myself in front of the school half the night." The youngster had come a very long way in no longer fearing the man would hurt her, but even being secure in the knowledge of his love didn't stop her from backing up a step when she saw the fire suddenly blaze to life in his eyes.

John's voice dropped down to a raspy hiss, "Where's Heather?"

"Sick," she whispered.

"When?"

"During last class."

"And you didn't think to tell me this during either of our conversations?" Reese was absolutely incredulous that his highly intelligent daughter thought that this was going to be in any way acceptable to him.

Dropping her eyes and wrapping her arms around herself, Ashlyn tried to defend her actions, "You said you were out with the number and Uncle Harold wasn't at the library, so rather than having you try to get to me while dealing with all that, I just walked home. I was perfectly safe."

"And if I had been someone different?" he demanded. "You couldn't get away from me until you actually had the nerve to bite my hand."

She gave him a dark look, "And how many other people would have known what I was going to do and anticipate the way you did?" Another car pulled up near where he had parked and Harold got out, concern warring with fatigue as he witnessed the argument.

"It doesn't matter," he thundered at her, his voice rising harshly as his anger and fear over her taking such a chance overrode his natural inclination to quiet intensity. She stared up him, ice green eyes wide in stunned disbelief at his fury with her. "You should have told me what was going on so I could make arrangements to either pick you up or have someone else get to you. You are NEVER, EVER to walk home from school at night unaccompanied! I will take you out of those classes immediately if you can't be trusted. Do you understand me?"

Dropped her head in sudden fearful submission before his rage, Ashlyn whispered, "Yes, sir. I understand."

Stalking past her, not noticing her flinch from his nearness, John nearly ripped the cover off the keypad and stabbed the password in. When the door released, he yanked it open and pointed without looking at her, "In. Now."

Edging past him cautiously, she went through the door and bolted up the steps out of sight as he let the door slam behind her.

"John…" Finch started.

"Don't, Harold. Don't try to justify what she did or minimize my response." The big man began pacing with barely leashed violence, "She knew Heather couldn't take her home tonight because she was sick but Ashlyn didn't mention that either time we texted today. She decided that since I told her we weren't at the library, it was fine for her to walk home, in the dark, at quarter after ten, because we were busy."

"John…" he tried again.

"I would have handed the number over to Carter or Fusco if necessary so I could get to her, or had one of them back me up so you could. Hell, for that matter, I would have sent one of them after her rather than take such a risk! If she can't be safe going to and from school, I'll keep her at the library in her study room or at the house so she doesn't place herself in danger again."

"John…" Harold became a little more strident.

"If I have to stop working for you and saving the numbers in order to protect her, I will. I won't just stand by and let something happen to her because I'm too busy dealing with someone; my daughter is too important. I would rather just let them all die…"

"JOHN!" Finch yelled, interrupting his friend.

"What?!" Reese snarled back.

Stepping in as close to the younger man as he could without actually touching him, the billionaire whispered, "She's able to hear and see you. Do you realize what you're saying could have a drastic impact on her, especially after the way you reacted when you first found her?"

Whirling around, the former agent's dark blue gaze locked onto the camera situated near the doorway and found it focused on them. Knowing Reese was a man who prided himself on his control and the fact that he could speak intelligently without cursing every other sentence, Harold was quite impressed with the number of expletives his partner could string together at once. And in multiple languages, too. Rapidly punching in the password again, John hauled the door open and went up the steps to the second level two at a time while the other man followed more slowly.

Reaching the top, he found the gate closed and, when he tried to pull it open, locked. John stared at it uncomprehendingly for a moment before fumbling for the key. Finch reached him as he jabbed the key in the lock and turned it.

"Why would she reclose and lock the gate knowing we were just outside and coming in presently?"

"No, no, no," John was chanting as he pushed through and hurried into the main room. The two men found Ashlyn's computer running with the camera at the door being front and center on the screen but the teen was not there. Putting his long legs to work, the fearful father ran down the hallway to the bedrooms, sitting rooms, and the girl's study room, but found each of them empty.

He returned to the central room, eyes wide and wild with distress as he focused on his friend, "She's gone, Harold. She's not here. Pull up the cameras, find her, see where she went!"

Horrified, the older man dropped painfully into his seat at the primary system and hit the power button.

Nothing happened.

Pushing back from the table, he looked underneath and checked to see that things were plugged in and found several power cords missing. Rising, he looked over his computer and found that some of the components that were normally hooked up to it were also gone. Lurching to his feet, Finch stumbled over to the girl's already active system and began typing at her keyboard. The screen froze, and then went black, causing him to straighten abruptly with a soft gasp of pain.

"Harold? What…?"

"She half dismantled my computer, then set hers up to crash if accessed without a password. I have to find the parts she removed to get anything to work!" Before the men could move, the screen before them lit up again with a message.

_I'm sorry. I suppose I was wrong to walk home after class, but the numbers, saving people's lives, is important and I don't want you to stop doing that. If you don't have me to worry about constantly, you can go back to the life you had before I ruined things. I've done nothing but cause problems since you found me: bringing another dog in that tore things up, getting kidnapped, causing you problems because men stare at me or try to approach me inappropriately, wanting to go to school, and dragging you into situations you shouldn't have to be in. Both of you have had to make so many changes to your lives and instead of enjoying your solitude, you've been forced to babysit a damaged teenager who didn't have a clue what the real world was like. _

_I heard what you said about taking me out of school and having me study at home. I can't do that. I can't be trapped inside again like I was growing up without knowledge of the real world. Having had the chance at a somewhat normal life for the last several months, I would wither away and die if I had to go back to what I experienced under Arndt's dictatorship._

_People shouldn't die because of me. The numbers and what the two of you are doing are too important for you to just give up because I'm too young and naïve to truly understand my place in the world._

_So, if I'm no longer there to distract you or cause you problems, you can focus on what's really important: saving lives and putting criminals away._

_I love you and I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused._

_Ashlyn_

_PS: Uncle Harold, I'm sorry I took your computer apart and hid the pieces and cords around the library. I couldn't take the chance that you might try to use it to track me down before I could get some distance. My system is locked and I actually am sending this to you remotely so you can't back-trace me. I love you, too, and hope you can help get dad back on track quickly so the numbers don't suffer because of anything I've done._

John sank to his knees in the middle of the floor as tears pooled in his dark eyes and slipped unheeded down a face suddenly lined with grief and pain. His daughter had left. Because he'd lost his oft-vaunted control and made threats, empty though they were since he was just trying to blow off steam before trying to talk to her calmly. She had taken it as a slap in the face that the father she'd come to love and trust was going to allow people to die while he locked her in a tower and stood guard. She'd even compared it to Arndt of all people.

While the younger man was nearly prostrate with anguish, Harold began hurrying as much as his sore body would permit to find the components to his computer so he could find the child he'd come to love so much. He had known of course that John was merely venting, but when he realized the camera had moved and was focused on them, he'd known she would hear it differently. She would have heard it with the still damaged heart and soul of a teenager who'd been beaten and hidden away for so many years.

He really wasn't surprised she'd run, but the note she sent had shocked him. The girl apparently still believed herself to be of little value to anyone, including the father and uncle who'd worked so hard to make her feel loved and wanted. Knowing she wouldn't have had much time to hide things, Finch went through the most direct route to her study room, grabbing things he spotted from shelves or tossed through doors. Once he believed he had it all, he returned to his system and began putting the computer back together.

"John, I need your help. You have to get it together so you can focus so we can find her." This wasn't a role he was used to being in. The other man was always the one to take charge and assign responsibilities.

The big man dashed the tears from his face and forced himself to rise and approach his friend, "Tell me."

Harold began directing the former agent under the table to get things plugged back in correctly (it saved him from having to crawl around on the floor with his back and leg already hurting) and then sent him to take inventory of what they knew the teen had onsite and took with her.

Once everything was firing up properly, the computer genius settled slowly back into his chair and began typing frantically at the keyboard. Once he put in commands and set up parameters, he sat back to let the computer do its work. He turned the chair to face his friend when he came back to the main room.

"I know she has money with her. She always carries at least fifty in her wallet and another hundred hidden in her cell phone case, plus there's usually about three hundred in her desk and that's missing."

"Clothing?"

"She took what was being kept here, so at least a week's worth and her backpack with her laptop." John gestured to the computer, "What have you set up and has it found anything yet?"

Spinning back to the screen, Harold shook his head, "No, nothing yet; but I have it skimming through looking for facial recognition starting with the cameras around here, then expanding outwards in blocks. She has her phone and laptop turned off so I can't get a trace on them and it looks like she found and removed the tracking devices placed in both. I assume she slipped out through the emergency exit on the other side of the building? But how did she not set off the alarm?"

"No, she left through a window on the south side; it was just high enough she couldn't close it behind her."

"Have you tried calling Heather or her parents to see if they have been in contact with her?"

"No," Reese said softly, "I wouldn't even know where to begin. Somehow 'hi there, I've misplaced my daughter through my own stupidity' doesn't sound like something I need to say to them. If she hasn't been there or called them and I do, then I may set off a panic or cause Heather to think it's her fault for getting sick."

"Call the detectives. Let them know she's missing, you don't have to go into detail, and get them started on helping us search…" He was interrupted by the computer beeping as it locked onto a particular camera and zoomed in on Ashlyn's beautiful tear-streaked face as she tried to stay in the shadows and hide.

"Where is she?!" John demanded instantly as he came to hover over his partner's shoulder.

After tapping in a command, the computer popped up with an address and map, "She's right outside the house!" Harold looked up with hope in his eyes, "Perhaps she had a change of heart and decided to go home to wait for you?"

John was shaking his head, even as he raced for the stairs, calling back over his shoulder, "She's gone to grab more things. I need to get there before she disappears again. Track her!"

While the other man drove at breakneck speeds for home, Finch activated the cameras inside the house to follow the girl and set the ones surrounding the neighborhood so they would automatically pick her up and keep up with her movements.


	32. Chapter 32

Part 32

Ashlyn unlocked the front door and hurried inside. She knew she was taking a chance on getting trapped by coming here, but she was betting on her uncle not finding everything quickly enough to catch her. She had to pause long enough to talk to the dogs that scrambled to greet her happily. Bear's sensitive nose picked up the smell of fear and tears on his mistress and whined fretfully up at her.

"I'm okay, Bear, but I have to get my stuff and go. Dad just might show up here any minute and I don't want him to find me." She scooted past the animals and headed for her room to grab more clothes, a heavy jacket, some things for her hair, more money, a knife, and her gun and bullets. Opening her jewelry box, she lifted out a key stashed in the bottom and put it in her pocket. She quickly separated the money into different places so it wasn't all in one spot, grabbed her backpack and went to the back door.

She unlocked it, exited, and relocked it before starting across the back yard, both dogs following from their doggy door. There was a very small blind spot located along the fence-line that the cameras couldn't get and that was where she carefully climbed over and lowered herself down to the other side. Reaching back through the fence, Ashlyn tenderly stroked the heads of her beloved pets, whispering softly to them before forcing herself to walk away into the night.

~~~***POI***~~~

John pulled into the driveway and got out. He could immediately hear the barking of the massive shepherd from the backyard and that was where he ran to as he tapped his earwig. He reached the point along the fence where the dogs were standing and Bear's barking increased as he pushed at the metal with his shoulder.

"Harold, where is she? The dogs are at the back fence and she's apparently gone over it."

"Damn it, John; she's found the one blank spot the cameras can't trace and slipped through. I can't find her on the monitors!"

Snapping a command to the dogs, Reese raced to the gate, unlocked it, and ordered Bear through, shutting it before Dakota could follow. The shepherd didn't hesitate or wait for his Alpha, instead he simply took off in the direction he had watched his mistress go and followed his nose through the maze of scents. The big man, despite being in excellent physical condition, was quickly outdistanced by the powerful strides of the animal that ignored his commands to return.

When he finally ran out of breath and could no longer see the flash of a brown tail, John was forced to stop. Gasping for air, he could hear Finch talking frantically in his ear, "I lost them, Harold. Bear obviously found her scent and was following her; I can only hope he tracks her down and can keep her safe until we find them." Stumbling in fatigue, John started back the way he came, only getting about three blocks before a car pulled up alongside him.

Carter pushed open the passenger side door and leaned over the seat, "Come on, John, let's see if we can find them." He collapsed into the vehicle next to her in relief and they began driving, covering the north and east while Fusco, also called in by Harold, was driving the south and west areas. After several hours, they finally had to admit they couldn't find anything.

~~~***POI***~~~

Despite being frustrated the dog had found her, Ashlyn was grateful for his presence and protection as they made their cautious way across the city. A flash of fang and low rumbling growl were enough to prevent anyone from getting too close to the teen, though she kept her gun hidden in her jacket pocket just in case. She was exhausted when she finally reached for the key stashed in her pants and used it to unlock the heavy door in front of them. She gave Bear the command to heel as she stepped through the opening and quickly closed it behind her. She then told him to sit and stay while she crept down the wall several steps to the control panel and popped the cover off, just able to see things from the light coming in the large windows on the other side of the room.

Reaching into another pocket, Ashlyn extracted the small sharp knife and used it to cut a couple of wires, sighing in relief when she heard a quiet 'click' from further in the room. Putting the knife back, she released Bear from his position, shrugged out of her backpack, and slid to the floor. The dog was instantly at her side and she buried her face in his ruff to stifle her sobs as she let all the pain and grief flow out.

~~~***POI***~~~

When she finally got her act together, the teen slowly rose with the shepherd dancing beside her in excitement at being someplace he recognized. Ashlyn prayed that the men wouldn't think of looking for her at the loft of all places, it being too obvious, but it gave her time to get her thoughts in order and plan her next moves in safety. John had insisted the loft be maintained as a safe house if needed and it was still basically as they'd left it with furniture, canned food, first aid kit, microwave, electricity, water, and even cans of dog food. She had everything she needed and wouldn't need to go out other than to take Bear out to the grassy area a few times a day. The panel she'd disabled when they came in had been the security cameras Finch had installed some time ago in case the alarm went off. Fortunately, she knew the codes for everything and Harold only checked the cameras in the loft once a month and he had just checked them two days ago.

Getting out two bowls, she filled one with water for the big dog who was panting from the long walk and stress and while he was drinking she put food in the other. Leaving him gulping down his meal, the teen went to the linen closet and pulled out a light blanket. Ashlyn curled up at one end of the couch and sat, tears slipping down her face, while she relived over and over the terrible scene at the library. When Bear finished eating he came over, climbed up on the couch beside her, and dropped his head in his lap for comfort. The distraught young woman finally fell into a fitful sleep.

~~~***POI***~~~

Four days later, John Reese was a completely shattered man. He was sitting in his daughter's study room at the library staring blankly at her desk and chair. He hadn't showered since she vanished, nor had he eaten more than a few bites forced down him by Harold, and he'd slept in fits and starts. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw a vision of his child beaten, raped, murdered, being held captive, drugged, starving, anything and everything that was a father's worst nightmare flashed before him.

Finch wasn't in much better shape. His eyes were terribly bloodshot from staring for hours at the computer, silently (and sometimes not so silently) urging it to find the teen before her disappearance literally killed her father. The only thing keeping him going was the possibility of finding her. He simply couldn't figure out how she could so completely vanish that he couldn't find even a trace of her somewhere with the computer.

He was utterly out of ideas, his mind in a fog he couldn't quite shake from fatigue. Needing to do something until he could formulate a strategy, Harold typed a slow command on the keyboard, pressed enter, and rose to get himself a hot cup of tea. He was so stiff and sore he could barely make himself move, so he detoured to his bedroom to take a pain pill and muscle relaxant. Perhaps that would also help to clear his mind a little if he wasn't in such pain.

As he crept with agonizing slowness down the hall, he could see John at the end, lost in his own thoughts. Harold had his own visions of horror to keep him going; he couldn't imagine the torment his friend was putting himself through. Finding and retrieving his medications, the billionaire palmed them until he reached the kitchen and swallowed them with a quick swig of water before turning on the tea to begin brewing. He also started a fresh pot of coffee for Reese, hoping it would help him, too.

When his tea was done, he carried it stiffly back to the main room, pausing at the hallway to softly call, "John, there's fresh coffee for you if you want it." One dangling hand twitched a bit in response, so he knew he'd been heard. Continuing on to the computer, he saw one of the monitors flashing with a message, "Odd."

Setting down his cup, Harold eased back into his chair and clicked on the blinking window so he could read the text.

_Scan complete. Residence 7 incapacitated. Data unknown._

He typed in a command and received a quick response: _Cameras offline. Alarm deactivated._

Finch frowned in annoyance. He'd just done a systems check on all the safe houses six days ago per his routine and everything had come back normal. The only reason he was doing one again, less than a week later, was to just give himself some idle time to think, there shouldn't be any issues. He entered another command.

_Alarm deactivated. Unable to access system._

Irritated now, knowing someone must have done something, Harold turned to another monitor and pulled up access to cameras across the street from the residence and appropriated them. From various angles, he was able to see into the loft and found there were lights on and movement inside when there shouldn't be.

John was roused from his stupor by his associate's startled cry. Concern for the other man's wellbeing overrode his desire to continue beating himself up mentally and he forced himself to his feet. He knew Finch had been pushing as hard as he had and wondered if the older man had gone too far and hurt himself. Something else to add to his collection of guilt.

"Harold?" He could hardly recognize his own voice, it was more gravelly than normal and it almost hurt to talk he was so dry.

"There, John, she's there!" The computer genius was nearly bouncing in his chair as he kept changing and maneuvering camera angles at a high rate of speed.

Even though it made his a little dizzy and nauseous, Reese moved closer as he demanded, "Where?"

Suddenly, the myriad camera shots froze to a single view and zeroed in on a large window. Through the glass, they could see a large dog walking, pacing, through the living room. John nearly stumbled and grabbed the table edge to catch himself, "That's Bear! That's the loft! You mean she's been there? She's safe?"

"I don't see her on the cameras, but she may just be in a different room or out at the moment, but that is definitely Bear."

The two men moved as quickly as possible for the stairs, followed by an anxious Sheltie. Dakota didn't understand what was going on, he only knew his mistress and big brother had been gone forever and he'd just heard the Belgian's name being said. He was determined to not be left behind so as they went through the door, the pup scurried along with them and when Harold opened the passenger's door to the Denali, he leapt up to the floorboard and from there to the seat, then to the back.


	33. Chapter 33

Part 33

Ashlyn woke with a convulsive jerk and banged her head on something cold and hard. Blinking to clear away the black spots dancing before her eyes, she slowly focused on her surroundings. She was lying beside something white and the surface she was on was as cold and hard as the white thing she'd hit her head on. As she gradually absorbed and processed things, the girl remembered she was in the bathroom at the loft.

She had spent a couple of days moping around with Bear, crying, staring at the television without interest, trying to decide what to do next. She'd known she couldn't stay at the loft for more than two weeks and needed to get a plan together. Then yesterday afternoon she suddenly felt queasy and had to make a run for the bathroom. She had spent the rest of the day alternating between shivering on the couch under a pile of blankets and heaving her guts to the porcelain god. She'd been able to take the dog out a few times and make sure he had food and water, though the smell of his dog food had her leaning into the sink to dry heave.

The teenager had made another dash for the bathroom around three AM and had collapsed next to the tub and toilet when exhaustion overwhelmed her. Pushing herself partially upright, Ashlyn waited until the room stopped spinning before crawling to the sink and rising as far as her knees. She knew she was severely dehydrated and needed to get some fluids down, if only she could stop throwing them back up. Turning on the cold tap, she cupped her hand to sip from slowly, giving her cramping stomach time to adjust. While she waited, Ashlyn pulled a washcloth down to wet and gently sponged her flushed face and neck.

After sipping a little more, the girl decided to try getting back to the couch and pulled herself to her feet using the vanity. The world spun violently and she fell to her knees next to the toilet again as her body rejected the small amount of fluid. This time, the black spots wouldn't disappear and Ashlyn slumped to the floor unconscious.

~~~***POI***~~~

Adrenaline could be a wonderful thing when your body was overly fatigued and wanted to rest. It pushed you past that feeling so you could function, move, think, act. Of course, it also had the downside of causing you to crash pretty hard once it was expended, but for right now, John had a huge surge rushing through him as he negotiated the vehicle through traffic in their race for the loft. He couldn't believe that neither of them thought to check the safe houses in the city.

As they drove, they tried to figure out how she'd gotten into the loft and disabled not only the alarm but the cameras as well. The younger man was alternating between being relieved she was someplace safe and furious she'd managed to elude them for four days while holing up in an obvious residence. He parked in front of the building, snarling softly under his breath when he fumbled with the handle.

Harold tried to sooth him, but the former agent was already lurching from the car to the door as he pulled out the matching key. Billionaire and sheltie followed silently as John unlocked the door as quietly as possible and eased his way inside, motioning the other man to stay at the entry with the dog.

Harold watched from his position in envious admiration. Even after all this time, knowing the training his associate had received, and having seen him in action on numerous occasions, it still boggled the mind. The former agent moved with the grace of a stalking panther; pure poetry in motion, especially given his height and powerful build. Each step was precisely placed and completely silent as he made his way into the main area of the loft. From where the older man stood, he was unable to see anything, but he could hear Bear's soft whines and was trying to control Dakota who wanted to go see his furry companion.

"Harold!"

At John's call, he released the sheltie and hurried inside as quickly as he could limp, closing the door behind him. Following the sounds of his friend's pleading voice, Finch found him kneeling on the floor of the bathroom beside the slight figure of his child. His blood ran cold when he saw the shape she was in.

Reese slid his arms under the girl and tenderly lifted her, feeling the waves of heat radiating from her slender form. His partner moved out of the way and trailed him to the couch where he placed the teen and covered her with a single light blanket. Bear danced eagerly around his Alpha; not wanting to get in the way, but needing to be acknowledged to the point he was completely ignoring the younger dog who was tugging at his ruff, ears, and tail.

Straightening, John turned to the smaller man, "Harold, I need you to get the IV kit we keep here; she's seriously dehydrated and we need to get fluids in her and get her fever down before she starts into seizures." As the billionaire hobbled away, the big man dropped to one knee and allowed Bear to burrow into his chest, whimpering in relief at being with the pack leader again. The poor dog hadn't known how to take care of his sick mistress and didn't know how to get her help, but the master was here now and he would take over. He wrapped his arms around the dog, hugging him firmly and talking softly to quiet him.

When Finch returned with the IV and left again to get the first aid kit, John laid out everything he needed precisely, yanked on gloves, cleaned the back of her left hand thoroughly, and struggled to get the needle in. Normally, he had a deft touch at this, even able to start one on himself when necessary, but the girl was so parched from lack of moisture, he was having problems finding a vein. Finally, after several minutes, he succeeded, taped everything down tightly, and opened the line to get her the fluid she so desperately needed to save her life.

Once that was done, John got a temple touch thermometer out of the second kit and slid it over her forehead, hissing when he saw the readout, "104.2 on top of the dehydration, how is she _not_ having a seizure already?" He hurried to the kitchen to get a pan of cool but not cold water, then to the linen closet for a washcloth. While Harold took care of the dogs, the big man began trying to cool his daughter's fevered skin.

Knowing Finch had been getting as little sleep as he had, John told him to crash for a few hours and he would wake him if needed. After some hesitation, the older man limped off to the room he had used when staying at the loft, took another pain pill, and laid down, dropping off in moments. As he continued his vigil at the girl's side, the military man pulled out his phone and texted Carter and Fusco to let them know she had been found.

~~~***POI***~~~

Several hours later, Harold woke, stiff and sore from several days of being hunched over the computers at the library, but more rested and alert than he'd been in some time. Rising, he hobbled over to the closet to pull out something comfortable to wear and then to the bathroom, pausing only a moment to see his friend positioned on the couch with the teenager. When he emerged from his shower, feeling almost human again, he limped into the living room and found John half reclining on the couch with his daughter held securely in his arms as he slept.

He smiled sadly, wishing this were a happier scene to witness, and picked up the temporal thermometer to see how she was doing. Dark blue eyes snapped open instantly when the little device beeped and fixed on the brown eyes of the man standing beside him. Finch turned the thermometer so the other could read it and John winced when he saw it was still elevated at 102.6. Despite only having slept four to five hours, the big man was rested enough to ease his way off the couch and back to the kitchen to start another round of cool compresses on the girl.

Finch took the dogs out, fed them, and warmed up something to eat for himself and his friend, making him stop long enough to actually put food into his mouth. He then told John he was taking the Denali and would be back shortly. An absent nod was his response as the younger man replaced the empty IV bag with another and gently sponged the still hot face.

Less than an hour later, the billionaire returned with an older man shrouded in a hood that he guided in and introduced as Doctor Terrence Harvey. Seeing the stricken young woman, the doctor wasted no time in nudging Reese out of the way to get to his patient and began examining her. He'd been at it only about ten minutes when she suddenly opened her eyes, looked up at him, and screamed.

Pushing with legs made weak and leaden by her illness, Ashlyn struggled to get away from the stranger hovering over her. When she found the IV taped to the back of her hand she tried to tear it out, but when he reached out to stop her, the teen's shrieks took on a panicked, hysterical note. With a final desperate kick, she nearly tumbled backwards over the high arm of the couch. Fortunately for her, her father was there to catch her and prevent a terrible fall on top of everything else.

Unfortunately for them, she still knew that there was a protector nearby and she was going to use him. Throwing back her head, she shrieked, "_Bear! Bewaken, stellen, stellen!_ (Alert/guard, attack, attack!)"

Poor Harold didn't know what to do. Here was his niece wailing in terror at the doctor, his best friend trying to keep her from falling to the floor as she writhed against him, an attack-trained shepherd snarling viciously and ready to tear the stranger apart, and a sheltie howling in the middle of the floor in confusion at everything that was going on. Finally realizing that Bear was the by far the biggest problem since he was about to pounce, he gave a command, and his jaw dropped when it was ignored. Trying again, he raised his voice and issued the command a second time. The Belgian's response was to ratchet his snarls up another notch and take several steps in the direction of the retreating doctor. In the animal's estimation right now, the Alpha female was in need of protection, the Alpha male was busy trying to care for her, and Harold didn't have the presence to be strong enough to bring him under control. The mistress had given him the command to attack and he would take this stranger apart for her.

"_Foei! Bear, zit, blijf!_ (No! Bear, sit, stay!)" At the powerful command, the shepherd froze before dropping his hindquarters to the floor in obedience. His gaze shifted back and forth between master and stranger, ready to spring at a moment's notice to the defense of his family.

The hard, harsh voice echoing in her ears and the imprisoning arms restraining her movements caused Ashlyn to fight harder. Despite her weakness from the illness, the girl was terrified and that gave her strength beyond what she should have had at this point. However, even adrenalin-fueled fear was no match for the man who controlled her physically as easily as if she were an infant. Trapped in her feverish mind, the teen continued to fight for freedom until her body gave out.

"She's seizing!" John snapped at the doctor who was staying out of reach of the dog's teeth. Concern for his young patient finally overrode his fear and Dr. Harvey dug through the large bag he'd brought with him and pulled out a vial and IV syringe. After filling it to the correct amount, the doctor injected it into the IV port.

As soon as she'd started into the Grand Mal seizure, Reese placed Ashlyn on the floor, grabbing a pillow off the couch to put under her head. Otherwise, he didn't touch her other than to make sure the IV in her hand hadn't been pulled loose so the injection could reach her. It only lasted about two minutes, but it was long enough that his hands were shaking by the time the medication took effect to stop the seizure and he could lift her back to the couch.

The doctor grabbed the temple touch thermometer and skimmed it over the teen's red face, grimacing as he read the results before he cleared the number and did a second pass, this time with a slight nod. At the younger man's questioning look he gave a faint smile, "The first reading was just under 105, while the second was 104. The stress she put her body through when she was trying to get away from me and fighting you caused her temperature to spike so abruptly it triggered the seizure. Not very common, fortunately, and shouldn't happen again."

Kneeling on the floor beside his daughter, John went back to soothing her hot skin with the cool water as he nodded. Harold sank down to sit on the chair across from them, "What caused her to react like that?"

Dr. Harvey tried to reassure the other man; Finch had been a silent patron of his from a number of years and he had treated the billionaire on several occasions for different things without prying into his life. In return, his practice was his own and his bills were paid so he could do what he loved best without the stress of fighting to stay afloat while caring for his patients and his only grandchild who had successfully fought leukemia.

"She's apparently been ill for a couple of days, which accounts for her still being dehydrated and the high fever; most likely the stomach bug that's been going around recently. You told me she was here by herself for several days so I doubt she drank anything and eating would only cause her to vomit further. People who have been getting this particular virus end up in the emergency room on IV fluids getting regular injections of something lower the fever, something to stop the vomiting, and another to ease the aches and pains that accompany it." He studied the teen, "She may have been hallucinating or simply woke up to find a man she didn't know standing over her and got scared. At that point, her fever shot up along with her pulse and blood pressure; presto, one seizure."

He opened his bag again and removed two more vials and syringes which he filled and injected into the young woman, telling her father what he was doing so Reese knew what was happening, "One for fever and one for nausea, hopefully we'll see some improvement in the next hour or two. If you'll hold off on the water for a few minutes, we can check her temp again for a baseline."

Sinking back onto his heels, John realized the Belgian was still frozen in place from before, "Bear, _kom terug_ (come here)." The dog's head snapped around and the master beckoned him over. Knowing he'd overstepped his bounds by ignoring the other man when given a command earlier, the shepherd approached his Alpha slowly, sinking down to his belly and creeping forward. Head lowered, ears back, tail waving in appeasement as he whined softly, Bear awaited his punishment. His previous owner (the animal couldn't give the man the title or respect of Alpha or master) had hit or kicked him when he didn't do what the man wanted.

Reaching over, the military man gently gripped the thick ruff and lightly shook the dog, "_Luisteren, begrijpen? Luisteren! _(Listen, understand? Listen!)" Bear dropped his head to his paws in dejection at the Alpha's correction, knowing he'd been wrong to ignore master's friend and packmate when he'd given a command. John, however, knew dogs very well and understood the animal's actions; he patted the Belgian and gave him the release command and directed him over to where Finch sat.

When Bear came to stand in front of him, Harold looked over at his associate, "What am I to do?" He relied heavily on the younger man's knowledge in cases like this since he'd never had a pet before these four-footed fuzzy things came into his orderly life.

"Tell him to listen, then give him the sit command, and remember to preface with his name. Put him down and then back to a sit before releasing him."

Without touching the massive dog, Finch firmed his voice, thankful John had taught him the words in Dutch, and commanded, "Bear, _luisteren. Zit. Omlaag. Zit. Vrijgeven. _(Bear, listen. Sit. Down. Sit. Release.)" He paused after each word to allow the dog to follow the order, which he did instantly and without any sign of hesitation. Once released, the dog rose and nuzzled Harold gently as if to say he was sorry for earlier and was given a pat on the head in forgiveness.

With the Belgian was taken care of, John turned his attention to the Sheltie still sitting a few feet away making a variety of soft noises. The pup had been through a lot in his short life and all the commotion and chaos had upset his system to the point he was panting heavily while shaking with stress and drooling excessively.

"Goodness, John, what's wrong with him?" Harold inquired in surprise.

"If he were human, I would call it a panic attack; he's gotten himself worked up from everything and is a little shocky." Rising, he checked to make sure his daughter was still resting peacefully, and then went over to pick up the little merle and carried him to the kitchen. Grabbing some paper towels, he wiped off the slobber and got Dakota to drink a bit of water while talking quietly to him. That done, he returned to the living room and planted to furry handful in his friend's lap, "Here, hold that."

"What on earth? John, why am I holding Dakota when he has four perfectly good feet to stand on?" He walked the dogs, fed them, occasionally groomed them, and threw toys and balls, he did NOT sit and hold them.

"He needs comfort and right now I have Ashlyn to look after, so you get him," Reese answered as he pulled a chair over to sit at the teen's head again.

"Mr. Reese, I am not a dog-sitter."

"Harold, unless you'd like to be holding Bear as well as Dakota, deal with it."

"This does not please me by any stretch of the imagination, Mr. Reese."

"I really couldn't care less at the moment, Harold."

The doctor smiled at the snarky byplay between the other two men and ran the thermometer over the girl's head again, "We're down to 102, so things are starting to improve already."

The rest of the day was spent monitoring Ashlyn, occupying the dogs, and talking over the care she would need over the next few days. When John nodded off in his chair beside the youngster, Finch told him to go take a nap; so the big man did. He lifted his daughter, settled down on the couch, and placed her across his legs which he stretched out comfortably before dropping off. He slept several hours, even through the doctor replacing the IV bag again and administering more injections to his patient. His friend knew he was exhausted if none of that caused the normally light sleeper to stir.

As night began to fall, John awoke and immediately dropped his eyes to his daughter's peaceful features. He was glad to see the hectic flush that had burned on her cheeks was gone and though a little on the pale side she seemed to be better than she had been. Looking up he saw his friend seated across from him tapping away quietly on a laptop.

Catching the movement from Reese, Harold smiled faintly as he closed down the computer, "You both are looking much better. How do you feel?"

"Not as tired, very hungry, and wanting an update," came the gravelly reply.

"You slept for about eight hours if you can believe it; I was actually quite astonished that you didn't move the entire time. Food is already on its way, I ordered a variety of dishes from the Chinese place. Doctor Harvey gave her a thorough check before he went in to lay down about three hours ago…"

"And he's up," the man yawned as he came out of the office where he had crashed on Finch's bed. "Her fever came down to under 100, she's mostly rehydrated now, and well on her way to recovery." He picked up the thermometer and traced it over the teen's forehead, "99.1, almost perfect."

Sighing in relief, the big man slowly eased out from under the girl's prone form and headed for the bathroom to take a much needed shower. Several minutes after he left, the youngster's eyes began to flutter slightly as she shifted around a bit. Remembering the last occurrence, Dr. Harvey moved out of sight and the billionaire came to stand beside her so she had a familiar face to open her eyes to.

He smiled softly as he called her name, urging her to wake up and look at him, pleased when she finally did, "Hello there. I was beginning to think you'd never wake up."

Her ice green eyes were still a little foggy looking, but she seemed to be cognizant this time around, "Uncle Harold?"

He flinched at her hoarse, raspy voice and raised a questioning eyebrow at the doctor who stepped forward, "I'm Dr. Harvey, and I've been taking care of you and trying to get you over your illness. How do you feel and what do you remember?" He leaned over the back of the couch to offer her a few sips of water.

The girl waited a moment to see if the water was going to come back up like everything else had recently and when it didn't, she gave a sigh of relief. "I feel tired, very tired, thirsty, a little hungry but I'm afraid I'll get sick again if I eat something." Her eyes darted around the room as her memory rushed back and her hands flew to her mouth as she whispered, "Oh god, oh no. I'm in so much trouble." She shoved the light blanket off and scrambled to her feet, swaying unsteadily as her head whirled for a moment. The doctor had unhooked her from the IV drip earlier but had left the port in should it be needed so she wasn't hampered by long tubing.

Horrified that the teen was on her feet after her illness and seizure, Harold held out his hands to her and desperately tried to get her back to the couch, "Ashlyn, child, you must sit back down. You've been terribly ill and shouldn't be up."

The young woman wasn't listening to him, her mind was lost in the last run-in she'd had with her father and was terrified of a repeat. Backing away from her uncle, Ashlyn pushed his hands away weakly and spun around to try to get to the door. Unfortunately the room spun with her as her debilitated body and mind fought her instinct to flee and she staggered when the edges of her vision started to fade to black, legs giving out.

She didn't fall far. John had exited the bathroom, hearing his daughter's voice and eagerly hurried out to see her for himself. He was behind her when she went into her panic and stumbled. He was there to catch her.

Lifting her easily into his arms as Ashlyn tried to get her mind to function correctly again, Reese pivoted and carried her to the office where he had a rocker/recliner, and firmly nudged the door shut so it was just the two of them. Harold sighed, concern warring with hope, and called the dogs to take for a walk, beckoning the good doctor to come along so the pair had some privacy.


	34. Chapter 34

Another lovely song from Within Temptation called "Our Farewell" at the start of this chapter and "The Hand of Sorrow" further down. Don't own, make no money, just love to listen to them.

Part 34

John sank into the chair with his daughter cradled across his legs. He used one arm to hold her securely to his chest while the other reached over to grab a blanket folded up at the end of the bed. Wrapping it carefully around the slender teen, he held her close and slowly rocked them back and forth. After a few minutes, he felt her begin to relax against him; just a bit, but it was something, so he started to hum quietly.

He'd never been much for singing. Oh he could appreciate someone with a beautiful voice and even had songs that he listened to regularly, but John didn't consider himself a singer. His child disagreed and sometimes could get him to sing along to something on the radio, but only when he was alone with her did he unbend enough.

_In my hand a legacy of memories_

_And I can hear you say my name_

_I can almost see your smile_

_Feel the warmth of your embrace_

_But there is nothing but silence now _

_Around the one I loved_

_Is this our farewell?_

_Sweet darling, you worry too much, my child_

_See the sadness in your eyes_

_You are not alone in life_

_Although you might think that you are_

_Never thought this day would come so soon_

_We had no time today goodbye_

_How can the world just carry on?_

_I feel so lost when you are not at my side_

_But there is nothing but silence now_

_Around the one I loved_

_Is this our farewell?_

_Sweet darling, you worry too much, my child_

_See the sadness in your eyes_

_You are not alone in life_

_Although you might think that you are_

_So sorry your world is tumbling down_

_I will watch you through these nights_

_Rest your head and go to sleep_

_Because my child, this is not our farewell_

_This is not our farewell._

By the time he finished the song, Ashlyn was shaking with tears and clinging to him desperately. He popped open the recliner and braced his feet against it so she was completely surrounded by his strong embrace, safe and snug against his torso. She just let the tears fall as she lay weakly against the big man. The girl still felt sick and fragile from the illness that had sapped her normal vitality and her heart was aching from the days of separation from the father she adored. The pain of their last encounter beat at her and she didn't know how to get it out, make it stop.

"I love you, sweetheart. I love you so much. When I found out you left after our fight, I was devastated and terrified that something would happen to you. I shouldn't have talked to you the way I did and for that I'm sorry. Knowing that you'd walked home in the dark after school upset me too much and instead of taking the time to calm down and go for a walk, I blew up at you and then at Harold. The things I said I didn't mean. I would never lock you away, nor would I abandon the numbers like I said. I just want you to be safe and I don't know how to do that; and that scares me more than I can say." John buried his face in the girl's thick hair, "Please, baby, please don't ever run from me like that again. I can't do this without you anymore. When you disappeared I realized that the only reason I'm still alive right now is because of you. If I don't have you in my life, it isn't worth living. Not anymore."

The teen was shocked. Her father was the strongest person she knew and had done so many things for others. She'd known how close he'd come to dying when he found out her mother had been killed; John had buried himself in a bottle and had no plans to ever come out until Harold Finch had given him a purpose. But even that purpose, even his solid bond of friendship with the billionaire, wasn't enough to heal him from the pain and grief of losing a piece of his soul. He took so many chances when protecting people because he didn't have anything to truly live for. At least he didn't until a certain fifteen year old child came into his life and gave him a reason.

Ashlyn hadn't realized just how much her father had come to depend on her presence since coming to live with him. She was the reason he came home, she was the reason he _had_ a home. He was truly alive again, in ways he hadn't been since the day he walked away from Jessica, and he couldn't go back to the unrelenting darkness. And neither could she.

"I'm sorry, dad; I shouldn't have taken off like that. I was so scared that you were going to keep me holed up in the house and I just couldn't live like that again. I should have known you'd never actually do that. I was upset and felt like you didn't trust me. I hate it when you're disappointed or angry with me because I want to make you proud of me and not think you made a mistake when you found me. I love you!"

As she buried her face in his chest and sobbed, John ran a soothing hand up and down her back and whispered reassurances in that quiet husky voice. He held her close and let his own tears fall unheeded, cleansing him of his pain and fear just as hers did. Hearing soft sounds from the other room Reese shifted slightly, "I think we're going to need to go back out before the doctor comes looking for us and Harold starts fussing at me for dragging you out of the living room against your will."

Ashlyn gave a watery laugh even as she continued to cling to the powerful frame. John pushed the chair back into a closed position and rose with her clasped in his arms. When he reached the door, she let go long enough to turn the knob and tug so he could hook it with a foot and open it the rest of the way. The two men waiting for them gave sighs of relief when they came out.

Once the teen had been placed back on the couch, Harold came over and allowed her to draw him down for a careful hug as she whispered apologies to him for the heartache and anguish she'd caused. When she let go, the doctor approached to check her over again for any ill effects, and was pleased to find none. He gave her another injection of medication to prevent nausea and announced she was doing much better.

Finch had John bring in some food tables so everyone could sit in the living room and relax while they ate. The doctor had okayed some soup for Ashlyn and a bit of plain white rice which she ate slowly, fearful of it making a second appearance despite the injection. She was able to eat about a dozen bites of rice and drank a third of her soup before she was full and apologized for not being able to stuff in more.

"Certainly not," the doctor announced. "I would have been surprised if you'd been able to eat more. You did very well with what you did get into yourself and should be able to eat a little more each day."

"We'll get you back up to where you were, little one, but we'll do it slowly and carefully so you don't get sick again," Reese assured quietly. He was making up for days of eating almost nothing and knew he'd regret it later, but right now he was too hungry to care.

She leaned over and placed her containers on the coffee table before reclining back against her pillows, turning her head so she could observe her father. He kept an eye on her while he ate and as soon as he was full, John gathered up his containers and hers, took them to the kitchen, washed his hands, and hurried back to the girl. Now that she didn't have food near her, both dogs edged over, hoping for her attention.

Holding out her hands to the animals, she called them over and instantly had Bear burrowing into her while Dakota tried to climb up the cushions to snuggle with her. Reese scooped the youngest up and placed him carefully across the girl's legs so she could reach him. The Belgian shifted so he was sitting with his side pressed against the couch and his mistress's arm wrapped around his chest as she pet him.

Scooting his chair closer to the corner of the sofa, John indulged himself in some paternal coddling by leaning against the couch and stroking one hand over Ashlyn's black hair tenderly. His other hand rubbed the ears of the big dog seated before him and he grinned when Bear's eyes half closed in delight over having his Alpha's attention. His smile softened when his daughter's breathing gradually evened out as her green eyes drifted shut when sleep overtook her.

"Rest is the best thing for her right now; her body is recovering still, but she's doing very well considering," Terrence stated as he did one more check of her vitals. "Temp is normal, pulse, blood pressure, oxygen levels all good, and the nausea seems to have passed."

Harold pushed himself to his feet, "In that case, Dr. Harvey, I will return you to your home with our thanks for everything you've done for Ashlyn. It was greatly appreciated."

"If there's ever anything you need, Doctor, you have only to ask," John rose and extended his hand. "I'm in your debt for the care you've given my daughter."

"The pleasure was mine, and I'm delighted she's recovering. If something does come up, don't hesitate to send Mr. Wren after me again," he winked at his patron knowing the billionaire wouldn't pause for even a moment if he was needed.

The two men left and John was again alone with his daughter. Bear had retreated to his bed now that things had settled back down and was dozing so the military man lifted the sleeping Dakota from the girl's legs and placed him beside his big brother. Ashlyn stirred slightly but quieted under her father's reassuring touch as he carefully lifted her dangling arm back to the couch and pulled the blanket up under her chin. Rising, the man stretched until he heard various joints pop, biting back a grunt of pain when one or another hurt more than normal.

John went to stand by the windows and looked out on the now darkened city, enjoying the fact that he had his only child safely under his protection again and hopeful that nothing like this would ever happen again. He heard a soft sound of distress and turned to see the girl shifting restlessly in her sleep. Going back to her, he sat at the edge of the sofa and caressed her cheek lightly while whispering her name.

She twitched suddenly and opened her eyes, foggy with the remnants of sleep, "Dad?"

"I'm right here, little one, it's alright, you're safe."

"Hmmm," she murmured as she snuggled back into her pillows and blanket, "always safe when you're with me. My guardian angel."

He chuckled softly, "I don't know that anyone has ever called me an angel before."

"My guardian," came the whisper as slumber pulled her back under and into peaceful dreams.

~~~***POI***~~~

When Harold returned from dropping off the doctor, he found a note on the counter telling him that his bed had been stripped and remade, the dogs had been fed and taken out, and would he please get some sleep. The computer genius smirked at the final comment; his partner had gotten little sleep as well and he hoped that Reese planned to take his own advice.

Limping into the living room, he leaned down stiffly to pat both dogs when they raised their heads to greet him. A light had been left on near the couch and he found his friend stretched out on the sofa with his daughter safely tucked between his own powerful form and the back cushions to protect her from being too close to the edge. Even in sleep, he watched over her. Finch shook his head slightly when he caught the faint metallic sheen under the couch and realized it was John's gun placed close at hand should it be needed.

"The guardian and his child," Harold said quietly before hobbling off to his room to sleep himself out.

~~~***POI***~~~

April 19th found John and Ashlyn landing in Ireland in preparation for the concert he'd gotten tickets for. They had made arrangements to have a private tour of Ancient Ireland and were staying at the best hotels, planning to see as many sites as they possibly could, eating at numerous restaurants, and ending their trip seeing Within Temptation perform. The teenager was over the moon in delight at getting to see her favorite band live and could hardly wait for it, though her father was able to divert her with all the tourist attractions.

Their first day was spent in Kerry visiting the Killarney National Forest, Muckross House and Gardens, and a couple of the pubs that played traditional music and welcomed families. Day two was a visit to Cork where they saw Blarney Castle, watched people contort themselves to reach and kiss the Blarney Stone (neither had an interest in doing so themselves), walked around the gardens and saw Rock Close, then made their way to the whiskey distillery where John took a brief taste but not much since he had his daughter to watch over.

Then it was off to Waterford where they saw beautiful Waterford Crystal being made and toured Kilkenny Castle and the medieval city it stood vigil over. Their fourth day was spent at Wicklow where they were treated to the sight of magnificent waterfalls and bought some stunning blankets and sweaters from the Avoca Handweavers before being swept off to Dublin to see museums, shops, and the beautiful Christchurch Cathedral.

Day five was a Midland driving tour where they saw Mullingar Market Town, Newgrange, Tullamore Dew, and Belvedere House and Gardens. Galway was next where Galway Crystal was on display and stopped in at Kylemore Abbey. Their final day of the tour was spent at Clare seeing Bunratty Castle, the cliffs of Moher, an old smokehouse, and an evening at Doolin listening to the wonderful sounds of traditional Irish music.

Finally, the time had come for the concert, which happened to coincide with her 16th birthday, and Ashlyn was ecstatic at getting to see the live performance. At their hotel, the teen dressed in black jeans, a pale green silk shirt that brought out the color of her eyes, and wore her long black hair loose. Her father also had on black jeans and decided to forego his usual matching shirt and instead put on one of gunmetal grey. As they went to dinner that evening, he was the center of attention as numerous women openly ogled the ruggedly handsome warrior in the prime of his life.

They arrived early at the concert and walked through the many little kiosks selling music, shirts, posters, and a dozen other Within Temptation items and John had the girl pick out whatever caught her attention. Knowing her father's penchant for buying her way too much, Ashlyn wisely kept it to a minimum and only got a couple of shirts and some new CDs.

They had a private box in the theatre which had a perfect view of the stage and excellent acoustics without having to fight the crowds (John really didn't want to dismember someone on his daughter's birthday). Ashlyn spent most of her time on her feet cheering and singing along with the music while her father relaxed in the chair next to her and kept her from hurdling over the railing of the box when she really got going. When it was over, she happily collapsed into the seat next to him and leaned against his shoulder while they waited for the hordes of people to thin out.

"I take it you enjoyed the concert, sweetheart?"

"It was the best, dad, and thank you so much for this trip. It was definitely the greatest birthday ever and I love you," she snuggled closer with a contented sigh.

Wrapping his arm around her slender shoulders, John pressed a kiss to her head, "I love you, too, little one, and you're welcome."

They returned to the hotel where they changed for bed, pulled out what they would be wearing on the flight home, and finished packing the last of their things. As Ashlyn came out of the bathroom and started for her bed, John held out his phone, set on speaker, to her, "Someone wants to talk to you."

Surprised, she accepted it, "Hello?"

"I hope that you have enjoyed an exceptional birthday vacation and that the concert met with your expectations," came a familiar dry voice that brought a smile to her face.

"Uncle Harold! It was amazing; the whole thing has just been like a dream. You won't believe some of the pictures we got of the scenery here, everything was just beautiful," she gushed enthusiastically.

"I'm very pleased that things went well."

"How are you doing, Uncle Harold? And are the dogs okay?"

There was a smile in his voice as he responded, "The weather is cooperating nicely so I'm able to walk daily with your pets and enjoy some much needed sunshine. However, I will be very grateful to have both of you home again. For some reason, the numbers seem to go a little easier when your father is handling them than when either of the detectives takes over."

"Carter and Fusco just aren't as intimidating as dad," she stated with a smirk in the big man's direction and John just smiled back.

"A very accurate understatement," Finch chuckled. "In truth, I have missed having the pair of you floating around. I've adjusted to your presence in my life and am at a bit of a loss when you're not immediately available."

Reese moved closer, "We'll be home before you know it, Harold. Do try to stay out of trouble until then, please."

"Very amusing, Mr. Reese. I'm not generally the one who find trouble, that's normally your forte."

"Hmmm, I seem to recall an evening that you were high on a particular drug…"

A squawk was heard from the speaker followed by, "That incident with ecstasy was in no way my fault, Mr. Reese, and…"

Seeing the grin lurking in her dad's eyes, and missing the teasing that usually accompanied the two men, Ashlyn joined in, "Really, Uncle Harold? You tried ecstasy?"

"NO!" was his indigent response. "I was drugged against my will by someone I thought was in danger and then the madwoman left me to die. Detective Fusco had to assist in removing me from danger," he seemed more put out by that than being drugged and threatened with death.

Father and daughter both laughed, picturing the older man perched in his chair at the computer puffed up with outrage. Knowing he was being teased and that he'd risen far too easily to their bait made him reconsider his comments, "On second thought, the pair of you can extend your stay in Ireland indefinitely!" He lowered his voice so that they could just hear him over the tapping of the keyboard, "Let's see how far you get with your passports flagged."

"Sorry, Uncle Harold, but you just left yourself wide open for that," Ashlyn, ever the peacemaker, soothed.

"Humpf," he groused before giving in, "what time am I to meet you at the airport?"

"We're due to land around 6 pm and we expect you to wait for us at passenger pickup, not the terminal," John stressed. "There's no reason for you to be trying to walk the entire airport only to turn around and have to walk back again."

"Yes, _dad_," Finch snarked, knowing his friend was being overprotective once again.

The other man just smiled into the phone, "Good, then we'll see you when we're back on American soil."

"I'll see you then. Good night, John, Ashlyn, and happy birthday, child."

"Night, Uncle Harold, and thank you." She ended the call and handed the cell back to her father who tucked it in a pocket while she pulled down the blankets and sheet to the bed and climbed in for the night.

John seated himself next to her and tugged the covers up to her shoulders, stroking one hand over her hair, "I'm glad you enjoyed the trip, sweetheart, and the concert; though I think my ears are still ringing from some of those songs."

Laying on her side so she could look up at him, the teen chuckled, "I know, but some of their music is so poignant and heartrending, like _Forgiven _and _The Hand of Sorrow_. It really speaks to me in ways other songs don't."

"I know, baby, I could feel it, too, at times. You get some sleep, morning's going to come all too soon and then we have a long flight ahead of us." He brought his phone back out and tapped a few buttons and the youngster smiled when it began playing some of the songs they'd heard that night. "Happy birthday, little one, I love you."

"Thank you, dad; love you, too," her voice faded slowly as sleep claimed her.

John rose carefully so he didn't disturb her slumber and let the music continue playing as he placed the final few items in bags for the next day's run for the airport. He drifted over to the balcony with a lovely view of the landscape illuminated by the bright moon and stepped out into the quiet night, still holding the cell as it played softly. One of the songs Ashlyn had mentioned earlier started to play and he listened to it more closely, feeling some of the lyrics describe his own life in places.

_The child without a name grew up to be The Hand_

_To watch you, to shield you, or kill on demand_

He'd had a name as a child, but over the years he'd lost it to so many different aliases he couldn't keep up with them all. It was only when Ashlyn came into his life that he reclaimed it.

_He's torn between his honor and the true love of his life_

_He prayed for both but was denied_

Well, he certainly had been torn between serving his country and staying with Jessica; in hindsight, he wished he'd made a different decision.

_So many dreams were broken and so much was sacrificed_

_Was it worth the ones we loved and had to leave behind?_

_So many years have passed, who are the noble and the wise?_

_Will all our sins be justified?_

Too many dreams, too much sacrifice, and oh the sins he was guilty of! He hoped that the work he did now and the love he lavished on his daughter would negate some of it.

_His soul was tortured by love and by pain_

_He surely would flee but the oath made him stay_

_Please forgive me for the sorrow, for leaving you in tears_

_For the dreams we had to silence_

_That's all they'll ever be_

_Still I'll be The Hand that serves you_

_Though you'll not see that it is me_

_So many dreams were broken and so much was sacrificed_

_Was it worth the ones we loved and had to leave behind?_

_So many years have passed, who are the noble and the wise?_

_Will all our sins be justified?_

And serve, he would. To make up for the suffering and pain he'd caused others unintentionally, for abandoning the love of his life and his only child to hell, he would battle any demon to keep Ashlyn safe and to protect others now. He let the music fade into silence and shut the phone down, returning to the room to place it on a charger before settling in his own bed.

~~~***POI***~~~

Pushing the luggage cart along, the pair made their way from baggage claim to passenger pickup and immediately spotted the black Denali Harold had brought to retrieve them. The billionaire was standing beside the hulking vehicle with a big smile as they approached and almost eagerly accepted the hug from his honorary niece. John was always both amazed and pleased with the girl's influence on them in such a relatively short amount of time; Finch had been a very touch-me-not recluse who lived and breathed paranoia at all times, refusing to allow anyone within his private sanctum. Reese himself was not a very hands-on person, unless it was in a fight or the lightest brush of his hand to guide someone in the direction he wanted them to go. Until Ashlyn came into their lives and turned both of them to mush with her love and light.

"We missed you, Uncle Harold, and I'm so glad to finally be home," the teen leaned into the thin man's embrace cautiously, always aware of his physical limitations.

"I missed both of you as well and am very pleased to have you back," Finch lightly stroked one hand over the long black hair as he smiled over her head at his friend and associate and held out the other, "Welcome home, John."

"Thanks, Harold, and thank you for coming to pick us up and staying with the car instead of traversing the airport."

"I do aim to please, Mr. Reese; at least on occasion."

"If only your 'occasions' would occur with more frequency, Harold; then I wouldn't have to worry so much about where you are and what mischief you're up to."

"Less mischief than yourself, Mr. Reese."

Shaking her head at their by-play, the girl released the computer genius and popped the back of the Denali open so she could start tossing her luggage in. Inquiring after the numbers, detectives, Harold's overall health, and any problems, her father gently nudged her aside to lift the heavier bags in. Once the cart was cleared, the teen rolled it back inside the airport and placed it where it belonged, then hurried back to her little family so they could go home.

~~~***POI***~~~

A short stop to pick up food and they were soon pulling into the driveway of their home. Diving out of the car, Ashlyn raced for the door, unlocked it, pushed it open and held out her arms. The first to reach her was Bear who had heard the car and was already waiting. Burying his head in her stomach, he whined and rubbed eagerly against her while his tail waved madly in happiness at his mistress's return. When he saw John, however, she was nearly bowled over in his eagerness to get to his Alpha. Dakota quickly took his place in her arms, fussing at her for leaving him for so long and demanding her undivided attention to his vocal conversation.

Spotting the bullet approaching him at a high rate of speed, Reese braced himself for impact as he dropped to one knee and caught the Belgian who crashed into his chest and pawed wildly at him. Harold watched the reunions with a grin, knowing how much the animals had missed their owners despite being content to stay with him. Every day, Bear had gone through the library with the Sheltie trailing him closely as he checked every room in case the family had returned. When he didn't find them, the shepherd would collapse onto his doggy bed and stare at Finch with soulful eyes and flattened ears.

After the pup greeted John as well, they unpacked the Denali and dragged everything into the house. The majority of the clothes were tossed in the laundry room to be done later while the gifts purchased for themselves and Harold were retrieved and set out. The trio made themselves comfortable out on the patio so the dogs could run and showed their purchases to the older man who was suitably impressed with the variety of objects. He was surprised at the myriad items they'd picked out for him, most with a depth of understanding into his personality that almost made him uncomfortable. John had come to know him too well and Ashlyn usually had an innate sense about people so the gifts were well thought out and appropriate.

Except for the black t-shirt of a certain gothic rock band that the teen handed him with a big, innocent smile.

He had to chuckle when he saw it, knowing it was the girl's favorite group and that she mainly picked it out because she wanted to tease him; kind of like the horrendous Christmas tie with the garish colors and blinking lights. It wasn't something he would wear out into public (unless he had no choice) but he could unbend enough to wear it around the house on occasion if it made her happy.

Other gifts for Finch included some lovely prints of landscapes for his room at the house or somewhere in the library, several rare books they stumbled across by accident, a couple of handmade sweaters, some Waterford and Galway crystal figures, three DVDs of various sites they thought he would find interesting, and a stunning hand-woven blanket for him to use on cool evenings when he was chilled or wanted to sit outside on the patio. He was very touched at the thoughtfulness of each item and made mental notes of where he would place everything.

By ten, the teen was drooping with jet lag and nearly asleep where she was leaning against her father's warm side with his arm around her. John kissed the top of her head, "I think it's time you went in to bed, sweetheart; you won't make it much longer."

She yawned hugely and stretched, "Who would have thought sitting on a plane forever would tire you out so much, but you're right, I'm ready to crash." Ashlyn gave him a hug and peck on the cheek before rising and doing the same with her uncle. She patted the contented Bear who was sprawled in front of his master, not wanting to let the man out of his sight and led Dakota into the house. He certainly wasn't going to let her leave him alone any time soon and while she got ready for bed, he happily curled up in his own so he could keep watch over her.

The two men sat outside for another hour before John finally admitted fatigue. Harold agreed and retired to his own room while the younger man, trailed by his faithful Belgian, went through the house to make sure everything was properly locked and set the alarm. His daughter's door was halfway open, that way the dogs could come and go as they pleased, and he eased it the rest of the way and went in to check on her. She was already sound asleep, as he figured she would be, curled up on her side with one hand tucked under her cheek.

Sitting on the side of the bed, John lightly carded his fingers through Ashlyn's thick black hair and smiled tenderly down at her. They had come so far since finding one another and despite the various ordeals they'd gone through, they were still together and things were going well. He was still astounded that he had somehow managed to help create this perfect (in his eyes) child with his beloved Jessica. He deeply regretted the years he lost with her but at the same time he was eager to see how she would grow from this point under his guidance.

Leaning over, he kissed her forehead and whispered, "I love you, baby; sleep tight."

She stirred slightly, eyes cracking open to meet dark blue as she smiled faintly, "Love you, too, dad."

With one final stroke to her hair, he rose and started for the door as she drifted back to sleep. John paused to pat Dakota as he passed and as he slipped out of the room murmured, "I still haven't picked out an actual sweet 16 present yet. I wonder if I can get a Ferrari or Lamborghini in hot pink."

Ice green eyes snapped open at his musings and John chuckled softly as he retreated to his own room, followed by the yelp of, "DAD!"

~~~***POI***~~~

Author's note:

And there it is, finally done!

Thank you all so much for following us along on this journey and for your encouragement to continue. The many reviews and PMs we've received helped us develop the story in various ways and for that we are most grateful! We hope to continue this storyline at some point and see how things go for our happy little family.

Until next time, happy reading!

Nikani


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